Prodigal Son
by Iyeshana
Summary: It is 1931. Edward has returned to Carlisle and Esme after his blasphemous betrayal of the life they created. Guilt ridden, Edward fails to realize why they so easily welcomed him back. Yet somehow they accept him, even if he shouldn't be accepted at all.
1. Irony

**Author's Note: This is the introduction in which Edward returns after rebelling against Carlisle (1931). Bella will NOT be in this story. Sorry, but if you want to read about Bella this is not the place. It should be interesting, though, since it explores Edward's early life(as I see it) which didn't really get put in the book. Also, dark Edward who drank human blood...scary!**

**Disclaimer: I am not Stephenie Meyer, though I really wish was.** **Same goes for all chapters**

P r o d i g a l S o n - - - 

Chapter 1: Irony

He welcomed me back like the prodigal son. Arms outstretched. I was so guilt-ridden, heavy with the weight of my defiance. How could I have defied him, anyway? His honesty had been definite, so I convinced myself that it was an act. A cover, when he had treated me with such kindness. The weight was heavy on my chest. 

He stared me down with a smile, glancing from my now red eyes down to my muddy boots. It must be hard for a father to see his son this way. To look him in the eye and know that he had lied. 

I hoped that things could go back to normal, now. That Carlisle could forgive me. So much damage had been done, and so much of that damage could not be reversed. In his head I could see how he believed me and trusted that I would not turn on him again. I heard him think, 'Welcome back, Son.' knowing that I was listening. I tried to return his gaze, but couldn't for long. 

She was still here. She sat on the couch, staring at me slowly and smiling. I was glad that she, too, trusted me, though to what extent I did not know. Esme had never thought I was capable of killing human beings before, so surely these acts of indiscretion had torn her inside. But she loved me. That much was as certain as all the others. 

And they were still in love. I sighed with relief after realizing that I had not been the cause of some devastating split between them. Though I was back, I could see Carlisle's protective gaze move onto Esme, making sure she was alright and that I wouldn't hurt her. 

"Mother," I said, knowing that Esme would appreciate the word. Then I turned to Carlisle, nodding my head. "Father." 

"I knew you'd come back, Edward," Esme assured me. "I told him to wait, that you'd come back to us." She smiled, and her caramel hair wavered on her shoulders. 

"I need to be alone for a while," I whispered, making my way to the stairs. "Just a while." The familiar trek to my room seemed to take an hour, as weary as I was. It wasn't the same kind of weariness as a human, true, but it was the feeling of unrelenting stress. On my mind more than my body. 

I could not stay. Not to disturb Carlisle and the life he had created here. I had done enough already. Worse of all, I had defiled the way of living that he and his wife had created. The way not to consume human blood, to live without feeling the sweet pulse of blood inside thick veins. 

The venom flowed to my tongue as I thought of pulsing blood, though I soon realized that I did want to stay here. That I did want to be a "vegetarian" with my father. And the only way to do this was to abstain from thinking of pulsing blood and the criminals that were murdering on the streets. The only humans I had killed were murderers, ironically enough. I wondered what Carlisle would think of that. He would disapprove, certainly, which was why I had come back after all. It had been a long time to go on that way, doing the things I knew were wrong. 

I could hear them downstairs, talking about me. It was hard not to hear them, even if I tried. If I wasn't hearing them speak, I was hearing their thoughts. And they weren't trying to keep their voices down. 

"He tried to be good, Carlisle. I know he tried." Esme was standing up for me, even though she knew as well as I did that I had not _tried_ anything. 

"If he tried, why does he look like that? He's a mess."

"Naturally," Esme whispered. "You would be a mess, too." 

There was enough silence to warrant a nod. Or a frown. And then Carlisle finally spoke. "And he came back," he reminded himself. "He did come back." 

I took their words carefully into consideration. Neither of them were mad at me, though they should be. Esme was still the soft comforter, and Carlisle would _always_ accept me, no matter what I did. 

I walked down the stairs, more slowly than normal. Vaguely wondering how much time had passed, I looked at where they sat–the same place they had been sitting before. Good, so I hadn't been up there so long. 

"I think it's best if we leave," Carlisle said. I noticed that his eyes were hopeful, the same as they had been when I walked through the door. Esme was calmly smiling, pleased to help me in any way possible. "Maybe if you get away, Edward . . . Maybe if you go somewhere where you can forget what happened . . ." 

I felt my brow furrow, and the corners of my mouth turn downward. "All I want is to stay here with you and Esme. Why do we have to leave so soon?"

"I think that your . . . focus has been compromised. I found this place in Rochester. It'll be perfect, you'll see." He smiled kindly at me. Esme knew I was falling for it, that I would soon give into Carlisle's methods of persuading me, as guilt ridden as I was. 

New York? It would be a change, certainly, but maybe for the better. Maybe I could clean up and find something different. Different wasn't always bad, was it?

"Tomorrow?" I asked, knowing the answer. 

He nodded, still smiling, and I felt the need to smile back. With effort. 

"Sounds like a deal. Thank you both." I turned to walk up the stairs again, but Esme stopped me. 

"Aren't you staying, Edward? Don't you want to talk to us some more?" Her eyes were now also hopeful. And something else. _Loving._

"No. I'm going back upstairs." 

I didn't know what I would do until morning. Well, not morning exactly, since it was already around 1:00. What I would do until it was a reasonable time to go back down again. I fiddled with the dial of the radio, noting for not the first time how bad the acoustics were in here. I cringed a little at the country music, since it seemed that the station was having a country phase. 

I gave up on the radio and then shuddered at the silence. At first I lay on the couch, studying the walls, the door, the ceiling. Something bothered me. I realized with a start that nothing in the room had changed at all. Not one thing. I could tell that the room hadn't been entered, hadn't been cleaned. It hadn't even been _touched._ Had it bothered Carlisle to enter my room when I wasn't there? Had Esme shuddered at the idea of seeing the place where I no longer existed? It seemed foolish to me, but to them not so much. Perhaps the real reason was that they expected me to come back soon.

They had been expecting me, waiting for me. That was why it wasn't a total shock when I had come back. It made me uncomfortable to think that they had been putting their lives on hold for me, waiting for me to walk through the door again. 

I carefully pulled a box from my closet, piling in the things I owned. I didn't own many things, but I _did_ have a radio. And books, more books than I could fit inside. I packed limited clothing, trying to fit everything inside. 

Esme was waiting outside the door, fist pressed to the wood. "We're leaving soon. Are you sure you're ready? I tried to tell Carlisle that we should stay here instead, but he insisted that it would be best–" I cut her off. 

"I'm ready," I said firmly. "Just finished packing." 

She stood there awkwardly, waiting for something to say. When she could think of nothing, she just smiled. "Missed you, Son."

"Missed you, too," I said, and closed the door to my room. I wondered when we would be back to the house. Even with the bad acoustics, I would still miss the room that had been my home for so long. 

"You're going to be my brother, soon." She flashed her perfect white teeth. "Carlisle said that we should try a different family situation."

"So Carlisle's your husband, and I'm your brother?" 

"That's right," she laughed. "It'll be a nice change. Don't slip up and call me your mother, okay? That could complicate things!" 

And we laughed together. It was a little easier to laugh after _years_ without laughter. Still, the sound shocked my ears. I had grown used to other sounds, those of humans crying, shrieking, and screaming. Laughter was a sound I had not heard. 

Still, the weak sound that came from my throat was pathetic. Though when they both looked at me, angelic in all forms of the word, I knew that my attempt at laughter had been good enough. Not excellent, and not normal, but it was good enough for them. 


	2. Not Today

**AN: It's only taken a couple of days! I was so excited to write that I finished the second chapter. I know this may sound lame, but I really won't get up the urge to write much more until I get reviews. Reviews make the world go 'round! Well maybe not the world, but my own _personal_ world! **

**REVIEW!!**

C h a p t e r T w o : N o t T o d a y

Carlisle had gotten a new car while I was away. It was a cheaper model, the Ford Model T. Still, I admired the design. I got into the back seat, knowing that Esme would want to sit in the front with Carlisle. I had no right to change the seating arrangement.

"Stylish," I muttered to Carlisle when I got in the seat. "An older model, though."

"Only by a couple of years," he defended. "Besides, it's really something else."

"It does have character," I agreed, and then "hmm'd" and "yeah'd" when the conversation deemed appropriate.

Esme updated me on her recent life, including the neighbours I didn't know we had and the job she'd recently created for herself. "Interior design," she said, "and architecture."

I frowned, not truly understanding what that was.

"I update the insides of houses, and sometimes I fix up the outside, too," she clarified.

"That's nice, Esme," I said, though I could only feel monotony in my words. She didn't recognize that I was falling into a pattern of words. She smiled back at me.

It seemed that my world was becoming very small. I had wanted the safety and comfort of Carlisle's lifestyle for so long, but now that I had it... I sighed deeply. It wasn't exactly _boredom, _but it was more boring than my days prowling the streets in search of humans more bloodthirsty than I was. With a startling revelation I realized that hunting down those people had given me a... thrill. Not the thrill I wanted, though, since I was back with Carlisle again.

"Edward?" I felt Esme's gentle probing voice dawn on me.

"Yes?" I felt my head lift up. I guessed that I had been in the vampire version of a nap.

"You seem a little desolate," Carlisle finished her thoughts, as if I couldn't already read them. I thought he, of all people, would know not to pry for information.

"Desolate?" I grumbled. "I'm more than desolate. I've _killed_ people, Carlisle, and it was too much for me to bear!"

If he was in the back seat he surely would have patted my shoulder. I didn't want his sympathy, I just wanted him to know how _difficult _things were for me. My melodrama seeped in through the edges as I plainly told Carlisle how much it hurt when I felt my pray screaming in their minds. And how good the blood had tasted. More than anything I wanted the blood. And I hoped he realized how much I wanted the blood right _now._

"We've all made mistakes," he reassured me. "But the main reason you're here is that you don't want to make these mistakes again."

Had it been a mistake? I remembered the first man I had stalked down an alley. The terror in his eyes had enticed me enough to make me strike. The justice he had deserved echoed off the pavement, and showed in his blue eyes which had been darkened by the light. He listed his crimes in his head, flaunting them like a badge of honour. The last thing he described–his abduction of a young girl–had given me enough reason to kill him.

I remembered the way the man had looked at me, bleating like a young lamb. "I don't want to... d-die. Not...t-tonight. You must underst-tand..." He choked a little on the blood in his raw throat. I could hear the continuation of his sobs in his head. He had a wife, and a child, though the girl he had killed had an entire future ahead of her.

"It's too late to beg, _Sir_," I had said. And then his choked sob became his last.

The sequence of the murders that I played in my head was on rotation. It brought me into the state that was the closest thing to sleep that I could manage. It was like a grisly nightmare, but it still held the familiarity of the past years. The _excitement_, however unbearable it might be.

It was a long time before we arrived in Rochester, New York. Because of my half-sleep, I was unsure if it was days, hours, or just minutes. Esme's calm tap on my shoulder alerted me of our arrival.

"Are you sure you're not the only sleeping vampire, brother?" she chuckled. "We're here."

I peered out the window and saw the city around me. It was very large, but not unexpected. It looked sunny, though, but not overly so. It would be one of those cities that forced time indoors, but that didn't really bother me. I couldn't be around the humans much now with the attraction their blood forced on me.

Carlisle pulled the car up to a motel. It was an inconspicuous place, though, and one that wouldn't attract a lot of attention if someone who knew of our kind came along. I noticed that the sign read "Sun-Down Motel" a name that was both ironic and rhymed with my earlier impression of it. _This is a run-down motel, _I'd been thinking.

We pulled our belongings out of the back seat. My small box seemed even smaller in comparison to Esme and Carlisle's belongings. Carlisle held a small duffel bag filled with clothes and other necessities, and Esme's bag held much the same, I was sure. All of the furniture had been left in the other house, which hadn't even been sold before we left. The family was starting to collect property like players on the Monopoly game boards I wouldn't see for a few years.

"It is quaint," Esme said faintly.

"Quaint?" I couldn't help but ask. "It's a shack."

"It'll do for now," Carlisle replied, "I called the real-estate agent last night, and she said that we could visit the house tomorrow."

I nodded. "What does it look like?"

"Well she told me it was a white brick house with a black shingled roof. It has a lot of rooms, but it's still only medium sized." He sounded pleased, but I couldn't believe it.

Medium sized? Carlisle wasn't one for extravagance, but he always enjoyed large houses. The small house showed that he was trying to give me a calm break from everything.

Carlisle pulled the motel room key from his pocket and slid it into the doorknob, opening the door in one smooth, fast motion. Esme cautiously peered in through the door, and her nose wrinkled in disgust. She scoured the room for grime, pulling her ivory finger over the night table and grimacing in horror. Then she checked the sheets, and made an audible gasp.

"We're not sleeping in these beds!" she shouted, half-laughing.

"We can't, anyway!" Carlisle said cheerfully. We were all glad that we weren't sleeping in _those_ beds. Disgusting.

"I know!" She was roaring with laughter, and I never remembered her being so carefree except when she and Carlisle had first married.

"We don't need to sleep," Carlisle muttered, grinning at her.

"Ugh!" I screamed. "Please! After everything, your behaviour is the worst!"

They both laughed at me, but still collapsed on the cheap sofa in the corner.

"That is so gross," I muttered. "Do you know how dirty it is there?"

"Yes," Carlisle said.

I grumbled a little bit, and then went in the bathroom, lying in the bathtub. It seemed clean, at least. And the bathroom made everything echo, so it was harder to hear the sounds in the bedroom. In a way it was disgusting, but it was also kind of cute the way they acted like they had just been married. To be honest, they had _never_ acted that openly with me around. I guessed that their shy nature had been abandoned when I left the house.

I stayed in the tub with my hands behind my head, legs too long to fit inside. They were pushed up against the wall, feet flat against the tiles.

They had each other, at least, but I still only had myself. It wasn't that bad, I guess. At least I had Carlisle and Esme. Still, I felt that a piece of myself wasn't quite into place. I remembered the times when I had thought of changing girls who were sick or attacked by angry men in the streets. Girls who had looked like they were on the brink of death may have seemed like a waste, but not enough so that I would have turned them.

I had always convinced myself that the reason why I hadn't turned these girls was that they would survive. It was true enough, in theory. But the real reason why I was turning them down was that I was waiting for true love. Love was something I didn't understand, foreign in its own way, yet I had succumb to the numbness that had convinced me that I wouldn't find love. Not the kind of love Esme and Carlisle shared. Or if I did find love, it would not be in an alleyway, and it would be many, many years from now.

The convincing had not been hard, and even as I lay there in a porcelain tub I knew that I was right. I would not find love today. Not today, not tomorrow, and not the day after that. I had done a terrible thing, something that was so _beyond_ the choice of a man. I had murdered, and not many men made that choice every day. Nothing could distract me from the thoughts of my _stupid_ betrayal. Not even Esme and Carlisle's love.

**Now that you've finished, you should review! I mean it! It only takes a second, so please do!**


	3. Real Estate

**Here is chapter three, updated by "popular" demand! Thanks so much to everyone who's been reviewing, but I know you readers can help more than that! Please let me know how you find the story, or else it will just get worse and worse...**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Twilight, I don't know anyone named Brenda Harding, and I don't hate real-estate agents. But after writing this chapter I am a little afraid of them... **

Chapter Three: "Real" Estate

When morning came we loaded our belongings into the car and began heading for the real-estate agency. It was in the heart of the city, but the underground parking allowed us to easily climb out of the car without worry of being noticed.

After taking the elevator to the main floor, Carlisle announced his presence to the lady at the desk with a loud cough. She didn't look up, and instead grumbled a rude, "May I _help _you?" in a way that made it sound like she didn't want to help us at all.

I backed away from the desk, trying not to be too close to the human. With all the weeks of human blood, it was becoming a difficult task to stay away from the source of the pulsing. I figured that I should hunt animals soon, to get the taste out of my mouth. I figured that soon Carlisle would have to stop, but I didn't want to wait too much longer.

"Yes," Carlisle replied in his soft voice. "I was wondering if I could meet with Ms. Brenda Harding, please?" I snorted at the name, so _typical._

She finally looked up from the computer, and shrieked a little when she saw us. I almost chuckled myself, seeing this woman so obviously startled. It was humourous the effect we often had on ordinary, married, middle-aged women who worked secretary jobs.

"Ms. Harding will see you now in room 203," she said, so quickly that she made it sound like one word. Carlisle smiled, leaning into the counter so that he breathed into her face. She looked like she was going to pass out, and Esme was obviously stifling a grin.

I missed that, the way Carlisle would often joke about the way humans reacted. At his job in Ashland, the young nurses would often bother Carlisle to the point that there was no escape. First he had tried claiming older ages, but then he only attracted older women.

The elevator stopped on the second floor, and we had a short walk to the third room on the floor. The white door was left ajar, and inside a tall blonde woman stood with her hand in a large briefcase. Her desk was a clear measure of untidiness, and her waste paper basket was overflowing with letters and envelopes.

"Carlisle Cullen? I'm Brenda Harding." She thrust her hand out for him to shake, and I backed away again. It was when Carlisle had_ this_ effect on women that it could be a problem for me.

"I'm just going to grab my car keys, and I'll drive you down to your new home!"

"We haven't agreed to anything yet," Esme clarified.

Ms. Harding laughed with that fake, nauseating quality in her voice. "Such kidders!"

I could hear her rambling thoughts in my head. _I'll be happy to_ _show _him _around,_ she thought, looking at Carlisle. I suppressed the urge to gag. _And the young one isn't so bad looking, either! Today must be my day!_

Esme seemed offended that the woman hadn't even looked at her. "Esme Cullen," she said sweetly, motioning to shake her hand. The real-estate agent just looked at her hand as if it held something dirty or unpleasant.

_I wonder if Esme is Carlisle's wife or sister...Probably wife, not that it matters._

I was utterly repulsed by the way she carried herself, haughty with her nose held in the air. She let us into her car, making sure that Carlisle was sitting next to her in the front seat. As she turned the air conditioning on, I could feel the air fill with her scent. Suddenly claustrophobic, I began to hold my breath. Uncomfortable without any sense of smell, I began reading their minds. I didn't like to do it, but anything to keep from senselessly slaying the human in the driver's seat.

_How close can I lean into him without his wife getting mad? _Evil Ms. Brenda Harding thought.

_Will she _ever_ get off of me?_ Carlisle thought in response to her actions. Her arm was a little too close to Carlisle's, and he obviously minded.

_Will she _ever_ get off of him? _Esme echoed Carlisle's thoughts exactly. I found it more funny than creepy that they had that almost mind-reading connection.

I suddenly had the recognition that I hadn't been paying attention to the scenery. Not that there was much to look at, but I still wanted to know where exactly it was that I was living. I soon saw the sign that read "Corn Hill Neighbourhood". Whatever Carlisle had been saying about medium-sized houses had been true enough, but they were all older, antique style housing. I suspected that it had been Esme's doing, since she always preferred that style.

Soon we pulled up to a house with wide windows and a double doorway. It was ivory brick, as Carlisle had said, and needed work. I was sure that Esme wouldn't mind working on it, though, because she had told me that it was her job to do that now. I just hoped she wouldn't be working with evil real-estate agents like the one we were in the car with.

"As you can see, the front porch is well-lit, and the door is freshly painted." The real-estate agent pointed at the black double-door, trying to draw our focus to it. The door was the only thing that was freshly painted or redone. The entryway was a little bit smaller than I'd expected, and the ceilings were a little bit low, but it was still better than "medium-sized" as Carlisle had put it.

"The master bedroom is large enough for you and your wife," she continued. I nearly snorted. The double-bed that Carlisle had been thinking about getting–purely for appearance– wouldn't even fit in the room. I saw Carlisle frown a little, but Esme smiled as if she promise with the place. I actually had seen the potential of the rooms until we got to the second bedroom which would be my own.

"This room is perfect for a small child or newborn baby." _Ms_. Brenda Harding had a perfect mask of pleasure, although she was still thinking about how she and Carlisle would fit into this house.

A small child? I was no newborn, and I knew that the only way I would fit in here was if I could actually push any furniture in through the doorway. I nearly had to duck my head because of the ceiling. Still, I could probably fit my radio and music collection in there. And maybe a bookshelf. And if I bashed the doors off the closet, I could squeeze a couch into the closet. I smiled at the prospect.

In the bathroom there was a new claw-footed tub, and in the hall was spacious. She then took us outside to see the back garden. There was a swing made out of white painted wood, and a flower box. Esme had an abrupt vision in her head of planting flowers in the backyard, a floppy sunhat on her head. She was wearing a pink sun-dress, and humming as she enjoyed the sunshine. It was ridiculous, of course, but I knew she missed some things from her time as a human.

"...and of course the Hale's live across the street," she finished, thinking that we were listening to her. I groaned with impatience at the woman, wishing she would just leave. Carlisle still had to go get the car from the real-estate agency.

"You know what?" Carlisle asked. "I'll just pay for the house now. Do you have a pen?"

He pulled a his wallet out of his pocket and began throwing fistfuls of cash at her. She gawked at him, but he just smiled. "I think that will make a good down payment. Where do I sign?"

"Just here," she pointed to the line with an 'x' next to it. "Yes, Carlisle Cullen. And the date. Yeah, that seems about right. I can bring you back to the agency now, if you'd like."

"No!" We all shouted at once. Carlisle tried to be more polite. "I'll call a cab."

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Cullen."she closed her briefcase, obviously not forgetting to thank Esme and I.

As I heard her door slam, I sighed with relief. "At least that's over with! I couldn't believe the stuff she was thinking."

"I can," Esme grumbled under her breath. "I've never met such an overbearing woman in my entire life!"

"She certainly was...pushy." Carlisle was still trying to be polite, even when fishing for the right rude word to say. Actually, I didn't think it possible for him to be rude. "I'm going to go get the car, Edward. Maybe you should meet the neighbours."

Of course, there was no need for him to call a cab. It would definitely take the cab longer to get here than it would be for Carlisle to run there and back.

Esme began rambling about how she couldn't wait to get started with the painting and fixing up the backyard, and at the same time admiring the scale and beauty of the Hale residence. Their house screamed 'superficial' to me, and I was sure I wouldn't have to read any minds to see that. It was large and built with clean wooden siding. The pale blue boards on the house and perfectly green grass sent a chill up my spine–in theory. The shutters on the windows were white, and I could hear chamber-music coming from one of those windows.

Carlisle pulled into the driveway, grinning. "We got another good house," he said. I only looked at him sternly in the face.

"Don't you find something strange about this place?" I asked, trying not to sound like I was being more gloomy than necessary. "Like maybe that it's too perfect?"

But I was only talking about the Hale house. Our new abode was nice, but far from perfect. I was sure that after tonight, after I hunted, I would be ready for anything this neighbourhood could throw at me. Real-estate agents, or perfect people, I was ready.

**Another good chapter! Well that's only what I think, and you have your opinions! REVIEW!**


	4. Banker

**AN: You will get to meet THE Rosalie Hale! I'm excited to write that! Thanks to everyone who reviewed. Chapter three was the most entertaining to write, and I hope you liked it. **

**Disclaimer: The only characters I own are the secretary and Ms. Brenda Harding. Though I'm not particularly proud of them...**

Chapter Four: Banker

I hunted the night before, having to leave town to find big enough game. I was relieved to have the taste of human blood out of my mouth, and I no longer felt so eager to lock my teeth around a _real_ throat.

Esme was so pleased with the house that she was always going into the city–weather permitting– to find furnishings. She was also baking, and seemed to think that the neighbours would enjoy eating her brownies, even if we didn't...or couldn't.

"Oh, Edward, would you run across the street and give these to the Hales?" She tried to hand me the plate.

"No! Well, not unless you and Carlisle come with me." I really didn't want to hear the shallow thoughts I'd only been able to sense so far.

"Alright. I'm going to get my jacket, and I'll call Carlisle down." She pulled her coat off the rack–for appearance rather than function–and softly said "Carlisle!" just loud enough for him to hear.

"We're going to the Hale house to deliver some brownies," She said to him. He looked a little exasperated, but still agreed to come.

I felt myself swear in my head that I would say nothing to them when I got there. Not for anyone. The people in Corn Hill were slightly...different than any people I'd met before.

"Hello," the man said at the door. He seemed slightly protective of his home, as if he didn't want intruders. _So these are the ones who moved in across the street,_ he thought, _I hope they're not here to try anything with Rosy. I've had it with those boys!_

"Hello," Carlisle said cheerfully. "I'm Carlisle Cullen, and this is my wife Esme and her brother, Edward."

The man donned a fake smile, though it was a slightly _disapproving_ smile. "I'm Mr. Hale." no first name. "I work at the bank." _They're obviously not the same class of people as us. Though they are beautiful. Especially the Esme one. _

I hated these people. Hated them. How on earth could he judge us so quickly, disapprovingly, without even knowing us? He took the plate of brownies, studying the shape of them as if looking for imperfections.

"Rosy? Marcus? Brent? Lillian? We have guests!" There were more of them? I felt my stomach wring with disgust.

_Rosy? I wish he would just call me Rosalie like everyone else! Doesn't he know that I'm an adult?_ Those were the thoughts of the oldest daughter, Rosalie. Her thoughts were slightly purer than those of her father, but she was still as vain.

The youngest, Brent, had quiet thoughts that had very little to do with our arrival at all. Though he was only eight or nine, so what could I expect? Still, I could feel the strong ambition in his thoughts, and the desire to grow to be rich like his father.

_Another boy to steal the girls from me!_ Marcus was an envious child. He looked up to his beautiful sister quite a bit, and looked down on his brother respectively. His father was his role model. _They must be important for Father to invite them. I wonder if this has something to do with me...Maybe he's for Rosalie._

Lillian was the mother and wife, beautiful in evening wear despite the fact that it was only eleven o'clock in the morning. Her hear was swept up into a piling arrangement on the top of her head, strawberry blonde hair outlined by the rose colour of her dress. The same could be said for Rosalie in her elegant sun dress, gold hair carefully positioned around her shoulders.

"I didn't know you were going out," Carlisle said, responding to the clothes they were wearing and the way they carried themselves.

"We're _not,_" Mr. Hale said, rejecting us again. "Rosalie, could you lay these on the counter?"

She didn't say anything, just took the plate from his hands and swept into the kitchen. He seemed afraid that Rosalie would have some kind of effect on me with her beauty, not wanting me to get involved. He also seemed upset that I wouldn't be dazed by his daughter soon.

The thing that disturbed me most about this family was the way they seemed to be judging our character. Our _flaws. _It was if we were either not good enough to be their neighbours, or that we would be too good, and draw the attention from them. That was exactly the problem, they were attention-seeking people.

And there was absolutely nothing wrong with Rosalie or Lillian, just Mr. Hale and the obvious was he had raised his boys. To be sportsmen, or to be the heirs to his banking throne. To carry on the tradition of perfection, even if it meant knocking some Cullens out of the way.

"Well it was very nice meeting you, Mr. Hale. And your lovely wife and children. Perhaps we could plan an outing soon?" Esme smiled hopefully in their direction.

"I don't think that would be best," he responded curtly. "We are a little busy these days."

"Oh." Esme frowned. "Well it was a pleasure meeting you, anyway. Come on Edward. Carlisle."

We walked back across the perfect lawn, and I had to resist the urge to dig my feet in and crush some of the squares of grass beneath my feet. "They're _horrible_," I mumbled. "Well not all of them, just Mr. Hale."

They both nodded agreement, and then pulled me inside the house. "We need to be friendly to our neighbours, Edward. Once you get the control, I want you to meet with Rosalie. Maybe she'll be a very nice friend." Esme's radiating smile only made her seem more oblivious to their attitude.

"You can't make me," I hissed. "I'd rather..." after the recent experiences, I realized that nothing really would be better than visiting _Rosy_.There was nothing worse than what I'd been through in the past years.

"They're so shallow," I continued. "So _superficial_. 'Daddy's the best banker in town!' 'I want to be just like Daddy when I grow up!'" I mocked the voices of the children. "Don't they have an idea of what's going on out there?"

"Of course they don't. They've been told that this is the way the world works. And it's wrong, I know, but they can't help it." Only Carlisle could be so accepting of those people.

"I will not!" I broke free of Carlisle's grasp on my arm. "I don't want them to think those things about us again! If you even knew...If you had any idea..." I felt the pressure build inside of me. "I'm going to find something to do tomorrow, but it's not going to be with the Hales."

"Edward..." Carlisle took a deep breath for emphasis. "I took you back into this house. Think of this as the same situation. Just months ago you were no better than them, so don't think yourself too high to associate with them."

"Too...I never _ever_ thought I was better! I just think that they're taking advantage of the situation they're in! They're oblivious, living in an alternate reality." I couldn't meet his eyes. "My ability doesn't allow me to make judgements, I just _know_ it's the way they are."

I went upstairs to put my things away, but I just couldn't take my mind off of the Hales. Were they really that privileged that they could think themselves better than everyone? I hope Mr. Hale had a heart attack tomorrow, and that Carlisle was working in surgery. Then he would owe his life to us. I knew it was very wrong to think things like that, but I continued thinking about various unfortunate accidents that meant the Hales would depend on us. Couldn't they see that we were only being friendly?

But they weren't all bad. Other than Mr. Hale, their thoughts were of approval, not of their exceptional lifestyle. The children only wanted the same as their parents, and Lillian only wanted to please her husband. Still, they were likely beyond redemption at this point.

And Mr. Hale had thought I was making advances on his daughter. _Adorable_ Rosalie probably had enough suitors to make her happy for a lifetime. As if I of all people would want her! All I wanted was for her to stop thinking about her reflection in the mirror so that I could think my _own_ thoughts.

If I had to go back again, I didn't know if I'd survive. At this point I was seriously considering getting a job so I could escape the madness. So far I had crossed real-estate agent and banker off my possible career list. If only I had the control of Carlisle I could learn surgery.

But that was tomorrow, and I still had all of today to do things that didn't involve the _Hales._

**AN: Done again! Rosalie is one of my favourite characters, and I really don't think she's like that. First impressions can often be wrong, remember! Anyway, what do you think of how I wrote Rosalie? There's probably not going to be much more about them, unless I write up to the part where she gets engaged to Royce King. Which I doubt I will since that's two years from this point in the story. Why don't you...REVIEW!?**


	5. Piece of Cake

**AN: I am so glad everyone enjoyed the last chapter. I liked it as much or more than the real estate one. I may or may not do a "TIME SKIP" as furubayasha suggested, though it might be a good thing when I run out of plot ideas. At the moment I don't have many ideas, though who knows? Anyway, keep reviewing! **

Chapter Five: Piece of Cake

Life in the Corn Hill district of Rochester was beyond boring. They all went in and out of their houses at the same time every day, and went to the same jobs in the same part of the city. Carlisle was also gone to work a lot, so I had to spend days doing nothing or listening to Esme constantly telling me to visit Rosalie.

"For the last time, Esme," I said one day after being tired of her rambling, "I am not going to visit Rosalie! Especially not if she's as bad as her father!" I slumped my head on the table.

"Well normally I would say that it's rude, but I think you should see what she's thinking and judge from there. I mean, you don't know how bad she is until you see what she goes through." Esme's request was surprisingly reasonable. And while I normally didn't read other people's minds, I was bored. And boredom does a lot of things to a person.

I checked the sunshine by sticking my head out the door, and then went to the swing so that I could get closer to the Hale house. Without the walls of _both_ our houses, I could hear her thoughts more clearly.

_I wish he wouldn't send them away,_ thought a female voice inside the house. _I _like_ them looking, but they never seem to understand that. I just want them to stay, but they all leave and go to Vera. _The thoughts never got too interesting, and she always referred to herself a lot of times in one phrase.

_They always said I was prettier than Vera, but that can't be true, _she thought again. _And father says I'm not old enough for a husband, but I'd rather just skip all of this. The suitors are annoying, always pestering me at home and him at work. It is flattering, though._

I'd had enough by the time I'd listened to all of that. It was tiring to listen to her ramble on about her non-existent husband. Soon enough she would find a rich suitor, marry, and have many golden-haired children. Why wasn't that enough for her?

I waited in my room, unpacking the box and laying my record collection on the floor. Spread out like that, it looked an impressive amount of disks. I could still hear Rosalie in my head, because I'd been tuning myself to her for the past few minutes. Even after all those years, some people were impossible to tune out.

Somehow I managed to thrust away her selfish thoughts and go downstairs to talk to Esme. No matter what, Esme always served as a suitable distraction.

"Esme? Do you have something I could do?" She was mixing another cake mix, this one for the Hales too, I suspected. Of everyone who lived nearby, the Hales were the only ones who didn't appreciate her cooking. She became more and more determined.

"You could help me mix this batter. And bring it over to Lillian Hale when you're done."

"I don't think so," I laughed. "The mixing I can do. But if Mr. Hale thinks I'm making a move on his wife I may never see the light of day. Not that I usually do." I was actually making jokes, which was a step up from my behaviour the past few days.

I helped her mix the batter, some kind of chocolate cake mix that she had added bitter chocolate to. We chatted for a bit, but I ended up doing the large share of the work when Carlisle came home and she got distracted.

The cake looked beautiful when it came out of the oven. It was three layers high with white icing that Esme was adding to the now cooling cake.

"How was your day, Edward?" Carlisle asked conversationally as we iced the cake. I was very sure that his day had been better than mine by far.

"I baked a cake," I grunted. "And I eavesdropped on Rosalie Hale."

"Edward!" Esme gasped as if the whole thing wasn't her idea.

Carlisle chuckled. "I'm glad you like her, Son. Are you going to bring the cake over later?" He radiated positive thoughts. Most of which involved me and Rosalie.

"Um. Maybe..." I was startled by Carlisle's behaviour. He had never encouraged me to visit girl's houses before.

"That's nice!" Esme was pleased by my new decision. "Give my best regards to Lillian and Rosalie."

I shifted my feet as I knocked on the door once... twice... three times... I was going to give up when Lillian answered the third time.

"Oh! You're Esme Cullen's brother, right? Edgar?" She had a beautiful smile.

"Edward. Esme told me to bring you this cake she baked. She's really hoping you two could hang out sometime, you know."

She motioned for me to come in, and I moved the cake plate to the dining room table. I was careful not to move to quickly, because the cake swayed back and forth, dripping still-wet icing on the wood.

"Well we are very busy people." She echoed what her husband had said days before.

I nodded, hardly noticing that Rosalie had just entered the room. "Edward," she gasped. "Why are you here?"

"Delivering more baked goods," I replied, smiling as I looked at the piles of cookies and cakes.

Lillian ghosted out of the room in a way I was sure her husband would disapprove of.

"Well I could use some company. Are you staying long?" She flipped her hair around her shoulder in a way I supposed other men found attractive. I didn't. Didn't she have other men to tend to?

"Not long, actually. I just wanted to say hello. And nice seeing you again, Rosalie." I began heading for the door, and she looked as if bitten. In one split second, though, her attitude changed from passive to agressive.

"Well you just go right ahead," she said sarcastically. "But I might not be here next time you come back." She waltzed up the stairs with her usual attempt at a natural sway. I caught her looking back to see if I was still paying attention to her.

"Thanks, _Rosalie_," I muttered. "What a pleasant surprise!" I had already shut the door behind me.

OoOoOoOoOoO

"How was the visit?" Carlisle asked hopefully. "Too much for you?" By 'too much' he was really asking if I could handle all the human blood. Actually, I'd become very numb to it, unable to think of killing the weak again.

"It was very unpleasant," I admitted, forgetting to even pretend it had been fine. "Lillian was polite, but Rosalie kept trying to grab my attention." I tried to remain unenthusiastic, and it didn't take much effort.

Carlisle had a lot of experience dealing with attention-grabbing women. "She probably just likes you. And she's upset you don't feel the same." He gave me the typical grin. The one that looked too long for his face though still seemed honest and warm.

I suddenly thought back on the event, pensive. "I don't think that's the case. She just seemed upset that I wasn't as impressed by her as everyone else. Almost afraid that I wouldn't fall for her attempts to affect me in some way."

He nodded as if he understood, yet even without his thoughts I could tell he didn't. _Edward needs someone,_ Carlisle thought. _Someone who needs him around. _

Esme's thoughts echoed his, a yearning for me to find the place of belonging. I thought I had found it with them, yet all they wanted was for me to love. Why was it that they couldn't just accept that it was only them I loved? That I would never be able to just throw my heart out there for someone as selfish as Rosalie Hale to take.

I thrust the idea from my mind completely. My world was not a place for Rosalie, and it never would be. The best part about my world was that I need not worry about that, because it was true.

My world was inhabited only by myself, Carlisle, and Esme. And that was the way I wanted it. The Hales only added drama, and I didn't want that like Esme did. Their search for approval was utterly displeasing to me, and it gave me a bad taste in my mouth. The only thing that made my day better was that I had convinced Esme to leave the Hales–and inadvertently myself–be.

**AN: I'm running out of ideas, so I may do the time skipping thing. This chapter seems a little short, although technically it's the same length as the others! Let me know what you think about this chapter and the time lapse idea through reviews! I personally like Rose in this chapter. **

**And I may or may not get an update up tomorrow...it depends! But in the mean time, please review!**


	6. Sewing

**AN: I didn't want to do a huge time skip for reasons that CBRH pointed out in a review. I do think it would be too long, so I'm only going to skip half of a year. We can assume that it's about 6 months since the Cullens moved to Rochester, and about a year until Royce proposes to Rose. That shouldn't be too hard to write, and I can always skip(or condense) a few months as I go. Thanks to CBRH for the help with writers block! **

Chapter Six: Sewing

Carlisle was taking advantage of my boredom when he asked me to come to the hospital, which was never a good thing. It would be bad being around all that blood, for one thing. For another, it meant having to deal with all the people who lived in Rochester. None of which were very polite.

Still, what else did I have to do? I mean besides visiting Rosalie again, which was obviously out.

We climbed into his car and he ran down the rules with me. He'd told the staff that I was training to be a surgeon, even though I pointed out that I didn't trust myself around the blood. He said that all I would have to do is sterilize the equipment in the back room, and chat to his 'friendly' female receptionist who was bothering him for the past few months.

It didn't take long for me to do exactly as Carlisle had asked. After I had sterilized the equipment and given it to his nurse, I waited in the reception area impatiently.

I almost felt bad for the receptionist. It took her almost an hour before she'd even gotten up the courage to talk to me, and even then she wasn't very persistent. The reason why she annoyed Carlisle, I supposed, was that she had more courage with men 'closer to her own age'.

The babble in the reception area quickly turned to excitement and horror when a young man walked through the door. Physically he was older than me, and larger, but he held himself with an immature arrogance. That wasn't why he was given so much attention, though. I had to hold my breath when I saw his arm, gushing with hot red blood. I could never quite understand how Carlisle could keep his self control here. My throat was already starting to feel dry...

"Oh my..." I could hear the receptionist gasp. "What happened...?"

The man didn't answer, just limped his way over to the desk. "Royce...King...Can I...talk to Carlisle...Cullen...please?"

"Right here," Carlisle said. "Come on in and I'll stitch you up. Edward, could you please get me the needle and thread? My nurse is busy helping my other patient." _As if I want her mooning over me, _Carlisle thought. _Edward probably knows she's only eating lunch._

"Sure, _brother._" he chuckled under his breath at the last word. It was pretty fun pretending he was my brother-in-law, rather than the father I considered him to be.

I grabbed his black bag from the basement and then hurried up the stairs. The less blood was spilled in the hospital, the easier this was going to be for me.

Carlisle had applied anesthetic to the wound, which dulled the smell a little bit. If he hadn't I would have gone back to the reception area, but I couldn't stand to be there with the receptionist anyway.

He was testing my strength, and that was testing my patience. Trying to see how much I could do, when I didn't want to do anything. But after I listened to what Royce was thinking, Carlisle no longer annoyed me.

"How'd you get such a scrape?" Carlisle asked, trying to make light conversation.

"Fell," he replied automatically. _Tried to hit a guy, _he thought, _and _then_ I fell._

Carlisle made the motion for me to cut the string over and over as he sewed up Royce's arm. I soon realized that I'd never heard about this guy before, except in Mr. Hale's mind. As I read Royce's mind I remembered that he worked at the bank, and Mr. Hale idolized him like his own son.

"Edward, would you mind finishing Royce's arm, please? I have to prep my next patient for surgery."_If you start to lose control, I'm only just out there, _Carlisle thought. _And you shouldn't have problems with the staff, since they think you've practiced medicine, anyway. _

Oh, that was just great! Carlisle had told everyone I practiced medicine! Which meant I could sew up Royce's arm, because that would be _so_ much fun. That also meant that if I killed the human right here, no one would get in my way. I didn't want to kill more humans than necessary if anything got out of hand.

I stopped the thoughts as they entered my head. Carlisle was only right there, and he wouldn't allow things to get out of hand.

"Where are you from?" I tried to be polite, although even my human instincts were telling me to strangle him.

"Park Avenue," he said, meaning the busiest part of Rochester other than the city. That made him even less redeemable in my eyes, although it did explain his attitude. Like most around here, he thought he knew everything. "You?" he asked, clearly dictating how uninterested he was.

"Corn Hill," I replied. "I just moved in a few months ago."

He snorted loudly, which made me want to drive the needle into his arm, blood or no. "Corn Hill? Oh, you mean where the people live who _think _they're rich. I'd die before going there."

I gave him a rude look, and then muttered, "Well at least I didn't _fall down._"

"Be quiet, _nurse_. I could take you down and you know it! Besides, I think my arm is fine now."

"Just don't trip on your way out." I hoped he heard it, although I was whispering. I think he did, too, since he shot me a deadly glare.

"I'm proud of how you dealt with all the blood around you," Carlisle said as he came back into the room. "I think you don't give yourself enough credit. You have excellent control." This only reaffirmed what I'd been thinking about him wanting to test me. Besides, he didn't even have another patient for about an hour. And his schedule was good today, so he didn't have to rush anything.

"That guy was nasty. He basically said we were poor, and that I was weak." I laughed without mirth. "I'd like to see how he'd handle me in a fight."

"You can't let things like that bother you," he replied, looking down on me disapprovingly. "If you do then we're going to end up with a lot of trouble on our hands, and that's never a good thing. If I just beat up every single guy who called me weak..." he trailed off and then thought, _then everyone would know exactly what we are._ "Knowing when to give up takes a different kind of control, Edward."

I nodded solemnly, knowing that he was right. If I couldn't control my temper, then I would never be able to control my thirst. I reminded myself dimly of how I had to hold my breath around Royce, not just because he was human, but because I wanted him to get what he deserved. That was a crime by itself.

Carlisle confined me to the lunchroom after our little chat, knowing that any humans in there would probably not provoke me. He had discovered my biggest weakness, it seemed, that I was able to control my lust for blood to a huge degree, but not my gigantic temper. It frustrated me without end, and I longed to show him that I could do better, but the chance didn't arouse itself.

"Are you Dr.Cullen's brother?" I heard a voice behind me ask. I turned to see a dark haired woman, still primely in her youth. I guessed that she was around twenty five or so, fresh out of medical school.

"I'm his brother-in-law, Edward," I replied. "Esme Cullen's brother."

"You two look so much alike." She smiled at me. _They're both so handsome. And smart, too. I wonder if he's single, or married? No, he's too young to be married, but I'd still say he has a girlfriend..._

I tuned out her thoughts then, completely annoyed. I met Carlisle in the hall, and hissed, "I'm running home now. How many girls do you know who aren't afraid of us? I'd never met a human who wasn't afraid of me until coming to your workplace!" I was glad there was no one in earshot, since I doubted I could stop my rant.

Carlisle did stop me, though, holding a finger to his lips tentatively. "Go on home, then, and tell Esme I'll be home by five today. Nurse Browning is back." From lunch? Carlisle told me everyday about how she always made him cover for her when she felt that it was time to take a cigarette break. That was just slightly hypocritical.

Rosalie looked as if she was waiting for her father on the porch step. She had a pensive look on her face, and surprisingly, not such a shallow appearance. I wondered if I had gotten the wrong impression of her, but how could I mistake her?

_Why Vera? _Rosalie thought with a grimace. _How come Vera gets to have her happily-ever-after and I just have to sit here? Everyone knows that Father's only procrastinating, and that most of the boys would have taken me when I turned twelve. Doesn't he know that they're not going to wait forever? _

Forever? She certainly needed a reality check. The true meaning of forever often went undiscovered until you lived as long as Carlisle, for example. I understood that I was frowning with revulsion at her thoughts when she looked directly at me where I stood, sitting on my front step, mirroring her position.

"What are you looking at, Cullen?" she shouted. And then I saw that another girl was walking slowly up the driveway, smiling into Rose's stark face.

"He asked me, Rose, he asked me!" The girl had red hair that was cut just above her shoulder, and swayed back and forth in the wind. She was a lot shorter than Rosalie, probably only 5-foot-6. It was only then when I noticed how tall Rosalie was for a girl, only a couple inches shorter than myself. _Well that might help her with the male market,_ I thought sarcastically.

"I've heard," Rose replied brightly, smiling at her friend. "I'm so happy for you!"

"You'll have to come to the wedding, and help me pick out my gown..." she sighed dreamily.

"You know, your father knows lots of men at the bank...Maybe you should ask him to look for you."

She gasped at Vera, looking down at her in horror. "As if I could find anyone like your Ian at the bank." _She is _so_ lucky. How could she find someone so sweet with that black curly hair...and dimples...and he's so strong! A carpenter! As if my father would pick someone like that for me. _

It was at that point that I went inside the house, taking my time while I told Esme all about my day at the hospital. She seemed so pleased that I could control myself around the blood, and then proceeded to tell me that I should take a job there. I shuddered, not being able to trust myself, and not being able to help people like Royce King for the rest of my life.

I also vaguely wondered if I would ever feel sympathetic to Rosalie Hale, even if I lived another hundred years.

**AN: This chapter is a little bit longer, I suspect. I just wanted to show Edward meeting Royce, and also Rosalie's envy towards Vera...I still think Edward would make an awesome nurse, and I hope you agree with me! I'm still mad at Royce for being mean to Edward... **

**Please review! I know that you might not have time, but a couple of words is okay! Thanks for reading, again. **


	7. Strawberry Blonde

**AN: Thanks for all the support, and the next few chapters might take a little longer since I have school, and tests... Please read and review, since your reviews help me continue! **

Chapter 7: Strawberry Blonde

Esme seemed to realize that I didn't like it here. She knew that I loved her and Carlisle, of course, but she also knew that I was unhappy. Call it a mother's intuition, but she understood that I wasn't enjoying myself–not that I really could anymore.

I was still guilty over killing the humans, which was stupid and wrong, but still true. They were only the bad people, not the people who deserved to live. Still, they had lived lives. If I was killed, would someone just say that I was a bad person, and say that excused everything? No, not a single person was clearly good or bad, and killing any person was the wrong thing to do.

Like Royce King. Had I seen him in a dark alleyway, would I have spared him? Probably not, since I could tell that he was full of nasty thoughts and hopeless ambitions. But maybe in the near future Royce was to do something notable, something important, and if I killed him, it would prevent him from saving the life of an innocent. Really, by killing all those people I might have saved some they would have killed, and killed others they would have saved.

It was a lot for one person to think about, the guilt, the deaths, but I was not a human being. I had a lot more time to contemplate my existence–or whatever it was–before–if– I finally died. If I was human I would not have wasted important time thinking about trite things like the meaning of life and death.

"Edward, if you're unhappy, just tell Carlisle." Esme said this all with her face showing every bit of meaning she had in her soul. That was the way she was. No matter who I met in my life, no one would be able to show the compassion that Esme had, which in a way was like a special ability.

"I am not unhappy," I whispered, "there is nothing I want better than to be with you two." It was hard to lie to Esme, which was why I wasn't stretching the truth too much. I did want to be with them, and there was nothing I wanted more. Still, the things that were missing... I figured that my life might be put into place better somewhere else.

Like looking at an unfinished puzzle, it's easy to know that you are missing pieces. It's also easy to know the size of the pieces. The problem is knowing the shape, knowing the colour, knowing the design before you find the piece and put it into place. In the same way, I knew I was missing something from my life, and knew it was something big. The thing was, I knew that I wouldn't be able to search for it, just know it when it came.

It was the way that Carlisle looked at Esme that first made me realize that there was another purpose to my existence. He held a fondness, an attachment to her that he always had. Even the first time he'd met her he'd been enthralled by her intelligence as a girl. She'd been bright, smart, beautiful...and too young. But she had enthralled him all the same.

Was there not something like that for me? An attachment, a sense of belonging that made me realize who I was every morning? I couldn't help but wonder if I would just pass the person by one day, and not recognize them as the piece my puzzle had been missing all along. Had I passed them already, or were they waiting for me to come, many years from now? The worst thing to wonder was if I had prevented their existence somehow by murdering the countless humans I had slaughtered before. Perhaps one of the evil men was meant to be the father of the girl that would be mine, and I had prevented her from being born.

"I think I'll go upstairs, Esme. Put some more of my stuff away." That of course, was bordering on a complete lie. I had already put away everything that could fit in my tiny brown box of possessions. The only thing I wanted to do was set up the record player and try to find my music for today. There were some blues albums from years gone, and some classical piano albums. The jazz, the rock, that was the best stuff.

I soon got bored with the usual album I listened to, realizing that my old collection was now hopelessly out of date. I loved the stuff, but I needed something _new. _The unfortunate thing was, the radio was still going through that country phase, and had just started playing some new songs by a guy named Roy Rogers. I didn't have a true appreciation for country, so I played with the dial, trying to find a decent station. I wished people realized all the good music they had missed...

"Edward." It was Carlisle's voice, coming in through the door. I realized that I'd been here for hours, listening to music, looking at old things, remembering the days when Anne of Green Gables had been a childhood favourite and not a book to be 'remembered'. "You really should stop trying to make yourself seem so old."

"I am old," I said. "Well not _old, _but I'm thirty by human standards."

"Oh, so it's time for a mid-life crisis?" He laughed softly. "I never had one."

I kept trying to think of something to say, but nothing really came. The boredom kept hitting me over and over, and didn't really stop. And then I remembered. "It's Esme's birthday tomorrow, isn't it?"

He smiled. "You have an excellent memory for such an old man. Do you think you could do me a favour?" I nodded and he continued. "Try to be yourself. Smile, laugh, whatever it takes. And we'll go shopping tonight for something for her."

"Why does she celebrate her birthday, anyway? It's kind of pointless..."

"Not to her," he said sternly. "Besides, she told me yesterday that she's planning to make this one her last. After this year, she won't be celebrating every year anymore. I was thinking we could make it a real event..."

I knew what he was thinking, and it bothered me. He wanted to invite people. People with sacks of blood in their bodies, people like Lillian Hale who refused to like Esme even though she was the nicest woman on the planet.

"You're inviting people?" I tried not to make the last word stick out so much, but he recognized right away what I meant.

"Not people, but I'm thinking of a certain coven..."

o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o O o

I held my head in my hands as Carlisle dialled a long telephone number. I recognized it immediately as being the number for the clan that lived in Denali, Alaska. Esme loved them a lot, though she'd only met them once. Carlisle said that when she'd needed support after I left, she'd travelled to Alaska to visit the clan with hopes that they could restore her spirit. I hadn't met them, but I personally thought that their visit would be more torture than pleasure.

"Carmen? It's Carlisle Cullen. Yes, I'm doing fine." he held the receiver closer to his face, as if hoping that I couldn't hear her on the other end. Of course, I could hear Carmen in his thoughts. "We're in Rochester, New York now, and...Well there are a lot of humans, yes... um, there are men, but..." there was a long pause, and I could hear Carmen in Carlisle's head, saying, 'Well then there is no question. A lot of the girls wanted to get out of Alaska.'

Carlisle smiled at her words. "Well I was trying to say that...I was going to invite you girls up for Esme's...Well of course she'd like to see you...Thanks, Carmen. Alright. Bye."

"She's very perceptive, isn't she? I think she guessed what you were about to say before you said it." I grinned at him, though he looked thoroughly upset.

"I don't know how they do it! Every time they call it's like they don't let me get a word in. If we survive tomorrow, Edward, I might not be so exasperated." It was funny to see Carlisle like this when he was normally so calm and at ease. I think he was starting to see things from my point of view.

"What time do you think they'll be arriving tomorrow?" I wondered how many free hours I had until they arrived and attacked us.

"I didn't even think to ask," Carlisle said. "But it doesn't matter anyway. If you'd met them, you'd know that they work on their own schedule. We're on Tanya's clock, now."

The reality of the matter was that I only had _hours _until they arrived. Apparently, they were so excited to see Esme again that they couldn't wait until morning to leave. Or at least, that was what Kate said when she phoned us from a diner payphone.

Esme was becoming very suspicious about what was going on, but she held her tongue, thinking that we were just sneaking around with gifts or something. She had very little idea of what we–and the Denali coven– had in store.

They arrived on the doorstep sometime late into the night. The girls were named Carmen, Kate, Tanya, and Irina, and there was one man named Eleazar. They were all thoroughly vampires, though their eyes were a more gentle gold colour. Wasting no time in visiting Esme, the girls ran off to greet her, barely even giving Carlisle and I a second glance. Eleazar just stood next to us, smiling wearily and following us into the living room.

"It's nice to see you again, Carlisle." Eleazar smiled warmly. "And I see everything worked out with Edward."

Carlisle nodded. "With Edward's gift, it makes it very difficult for him to stray to a different diet for long."

The taller man nodded stiffly, as if he truly understood. I remembered what Carlisle had told me about Eleazar's mysterious gift, and not to pressure him to tell me about it. One thing I noticed was that he was able to block me from his thoughts, so I couldn't simply read his mind to find out what it was. Obviously it was something more than blocking thoughts, or else he would have told me.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Edward," Eleazar said. "And to know that you are well."

"It's nice to meet you, too, Eleazar. I think you'll fit in well for the next couple days." He beamed at my invitation for him to stay. Carlisle and I had discussed it beforehand, and he agreed that I should be the one to invite Eleazar into our home.

After a while, the girls got bored and decided to come down and talk to Carlisle and I. Esme was smiling so big, and I was happy that they were all getting along well. I never realized how much the Denali clan loved her.

"Thank you, Carlisle." she swept us both into a hug. "And you too, Son."

"Brother, you mean," I said, laughing. Everyone gave us an odd look, but Esme didn't feel compelled to explain.

It was at that moment that I realized the main reason why they had come down. Carmen was already holding Eleazar firmly in her arms, enjoying an embrace. I'd never really understood why he was with the clan of females, but his function was only to be her love.

The one called Tanya was staring at me from the other side of the room. I wasn't quite sure what she was doing, at first, until she crossed the room in a swift motion. Carlisle raised one eyebrow and then smoothly moved out of the way, leaving me with her. I gave him a look of strong disapproval, and then figured that maybe it wasn't what she meant at all. I thought that I should try to be polite to her, no matter what.

"Hello, _Edward,_ I'm Tanya. It is _very_ nice to meet you." I stuck out my hand to shake hers, and quickly realized that it clearly wasn't what she had in mind. She did take my hand, but instead pulled it up to wrap my fingers around one of her strawberry-blonde locks of hair. I grimaced at the colour, so sickly sweet, but still tried to be as polite as possible.

"It's very nice to meet you, too." I attempted a smile, but it was difficult when pulling my hand away from her reluctant fingers. After a bit of prying, she let go.

_He is so beautiful, _she was thinking, _and playing hard to get._

"Are you enjoying your stay?" I asked, trying to make pleasant conversation. I had been backing away from her, and I was now in the kitchen, my back pressed against a counter top.

"I like it here very much." She was leaning with her chest pressed against mine, forcing me backwards even more.

I wriggled out of her grip, but only barely. "How long are you staying?" I asked, still wanting to keep the conversation light, though it was difficult with her chasing me.

_He wants me to stay, _she thought eagerly. "As long as you like..."

"Well that's good to know," I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. Really, I felt like being sick. That is, if I was human I would have been sick.

How long could I avoid her? If they were going to be here long, I honestly didn't know.

**AN: That's basically how I pictured the clan's first meeting with the Cullens. There will be more of it, since I just **_**love**_** writing about the Denali girls(and Eleazar, of course!). Please let me know how you like Tanya in this chapter, and everything else, since I won't be able to update for a while. Hopefully in the next couple weeks I'll have another chapter! ****Review****, please, and let me know what you like/dislike. More to come, I promise!**


	8. Lilies

**AN: Sorry that this took so long! But it may take even longer for the next one, sorry. Thanks for the supportive reviews, again. If you haven't reviewed, I may send a Dementor on you.** **Or, if my Harry Potter logic doesn't work, a **_**newborn!**_** Scared you, didn't I? (Jokes, reviews are always optional)**

**This takes place a couple days after the last chapter. The Denali girls are getting ready to leave.**

Chapter 8: Lilies

In order to put my problems with Tanya to rest, I had begun to spend more and more time with Carlisle and Eleazar. They were a lot easier to deal with than the Denali girls, and my hospitality to them, including Tanya, seemed to be having a more negative impact on me.

Carlisle had always had problems with girls. At his work, on the streets where he lived, in shops, _everywhere. _The worst part was how young they were. Not only physically, but mentally as well. Even teenage girls often stopped to stare longingly at Carlisle. For many years I thought I understood the hardships Carlisle faced with women, but I had never truly been pursued. Tanya was someone who was so frightening as either vampire or human that I doubted I could scare her away like other girls.

I didn't really want to express my problems, but Carlisle and Eleazar seemed to sense them. I strongly suspected that Eleazar had a lot of experience with people needing to deter Tanya.

"I've never known Tanya to give up on something she wanted badly," Eleazar said, "but I think that if she knows you don't want her that way, she will find another way to put her efforts to use."

I nearly laughed aloud at that, but Carlisle quickly cut in. "I agree with him. You need to let her know how you feel, one way or the other. She might give up on you if she knows it's of no benefit to her."

I stopped dead in my tracks. "'One way or the other'? Do you think I actually like her, Carlisle?" I laughed without humour. "Or were you _hoping _I did?"

Eleazar calmly stepped out of the way so that I could face Carlisle.

_It would be hopeless to lie to him,_ Carlisle thought, _since he's probably reading my thoughts right now. _He sighed loudly, and then said, "I was just hoping you'd find someone who loves you the way Esme loves me. Then you could truly be happy."

As much as I'd been thinking along the same lines, there was no way that Carlisle could compare Tanya to Esme. Tanya was a lovely girl, but she expressed very little of the affection to me that Esme expressed to him.

"I'll find her and speak with her now," I said, resigning to the method they'd both described. I never truly considered actually _telling_ someone how I felt, since I continued to assume that people could read each other the way I read them.

I walked slowly up the stairs and then said, "Tanya." I didn't think I would need to shout, and I was right.

"Oh, _Edward. _Good evening," she said. I tried to ignore the suggestive tone in her voice. "I've been enjoying my stay here so much. You are very hospitable."

"I'm glad," I said honestly. "But may I have a word with you outside?"

She nodded, practically jumping at the prospect of going outside with me. I attempted to block her thoughts, rightly guessing that I would not want to know what they were.

She sat next to me on the swing, and I stared straight ahead. "Tanya," I began, and she leaned forward intently, "I'm afraid that I don't return your affections the way most would. I don't think that I'm right for you, and that's a shame since you're so lovely. You should try to advance on someone who will appreciate you more for everything you have to offer."

I looked up at her, and she furrowed her brow a bit, though only for an instant. "I don't have a clue what you're talking about, Edward. What sort of advances do you mean?" Her gold eyes appeared so innocent and startled that I very nearly screamed at her. I could tell by her thoughts that it was an act–a bored, annoying act–and it pushed the boundaries of my temper in a very quick fashion.

_Well, I tried,_ I thought bitterly, though I sincerely knew that she was going to try something else any moment from now. And I was right.

"Oh, Edward?" Tanya stood up from the bench. "It's alright. I know you're only playing hard to get." Her eyelash fluttered down in a wink, and I looked down, honestly sad that I wasn't right for her. She'd been looking for even longer than myself, I could sense that much by her thoughts, and she hadn't found anyone yet. I had the same dilemma, but we just didn't fit with each other.

I stood up too, and cleared my throat. "I'm not playing," I said, "I'm not even sure if I'm in the same game that you are." My serious expression made her frown. "And forgive me, since I've never had to do this before, but I'm more comfortable just being your friend. Acquaintance, if you'd prefer. I hope you've enjoyed your time here."

She also looked down, and then walked back to the house as I stood there, staring at her back. "I have enjoyed my time here," she said, but her sultry voice carried no true conviction. "You are a gracious host."

I was disappointed in myself that moment, but I knew it was only what I had to do. Tanya was just Tanya, and I shouldn't try anything more. She was persistent, but I was sure that she would give up soon.

o–oo–oo–oo–oo–oo

Esme waltzed down the stairs, smiling with reluctance as her friends walked toward the door. They had been here a few days, and were about to make their leave.

"Before we leave, Esme, the girls and I have something for you." Eleazar walked to her at the foot of the stairs, and handed her a square package about the size of a small picture frame. He hadn't exactly been hiding it, since it was difficult to hide something that size behind your back.

"Happy birthday." Eleazar hugged her around her shoulders, and smiled at Carlisle tentatively. Of course, he was hardly jealous. I recognized in Carlisle's thoughts that he had a gift for her, too.

Esme smiled gratefully, and pulled back the corners of the brown and pale pink wrapping paper. Her smile brightened even more as she looked at the painting on the inside. I was hardly surprised, but it was nice to see for real, all the same.

It was a canvas with a verse they had written on it in red and black ink. Thankfully, it didn't clash with the style Esme had given to the house. It read: 'For Esme, our sister, on this day/ Who never ages in personality/ We hope that your smile never sways/ And that you keep your very kind mentality/ Your brother and sisters of away.' They had each had written a line, and signed their names at the bottom of the page in fine print.

"Thank you all so much," Esme choked as if crying. "I'll treasure it always." She looked thoughtfully at the wooden frame, thinking about how it would match the cross Carlisle had hung in the bedroom.

They all hugged her in turn, and then walked out of the door and into their car. Tanya was the last to leave, and fleetingly glanced at me as she pulled the door behind her. I felt the guilt return, plaguing me as if I had done something wrong. The guilt that was following me now only stayed because of her feelings towards me.

As Esme stared out of the window, Carlisle came behind her with his gift to her. It was wrapped in soft orange paper, and was no larger than his fist.

She pulled the paper off of one side, and then slid the box out. Her eyes glimmered as she looked at the necklace inside, a thin silver chain with light green satin entwining the loops. Hanging on the chain were two pendants, one being a jade teardrop, and the other being a tiny scent box that smelled very faintly of lilies.

"The jade stone was one I inherited from my mother," I said, "so I thought I should give it to the woman who will hopefully always be my mother." Her eyes swelled with pride, and she pressed her lips to my cheek.

"Of course, Edward, you will always be my son." She smiled at me again, and then let go of my shoulders to stand next to Carlisle.

"The scent box smells as you always do to me," Carlisle said. "Now the humans will be able to smell lilies the same as I do." The smell was faint enough that it wouldn't bother our noses, but that it would still smell sweet to a human.

"Thank you," she murmured, leaning in towards him. I looked away as their lips touched, trying not to spoil the moment. Esme had not had a birthday for many years, but she had always held onto her mortality as much as she could. She didn't realize that no mortals loved each other the way she and Carlisle did.

**AN: Sorry that took so long! I am really busy with school as the end of term is soon. Hopefully you'll enjoy this, even though it is a little short. Remember to review when you finish reading. Stay tuned!** 3** (By the way, Tanya may be back later in the story after Rosalie is turned into a vampire!)**


	9. Jealous

**AN: As promised, here is chapter 9! Sorry it took so long, again, since I do have schoolwork, etc. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! **

Chapter 9: Jealous

Over the next few months, men began arriving on Rosalie's doorstep. It seemed that her father had done exactly as she asked and started looking for suitors. It didn't surprise me, really, that she could so easily find men who wanted to spend a lifetime with her. The surprising thing was how quickly they left after getting to know her. Shallowness was a turn-off, it seemed.

There was one man that her father always had in mind: Royce King. He thought he'd wait to send him to Rosalie, believing that she'd think he had planned the thing from the start. Remembering the fateful day at the hospital, I decided that Royce deserved Rosalie. They would be perfect for each other, shallow and ungrateful together.

I had not thought much of Rosalie until one rainy day when Esme took me into town. She was looking to buy a new dress, and had stopped at a formal store where they sold gowns and tuxes, and other things that Esme didn't need but wanted.

I walked slowly behind her, nonchalantly glancing at the menswear despite the fact that it didn't interest me. Eventually I followed Esme, helping her pick dresses to try on, and then pretending to scrutinize each of them even though they all looked fine. There was one that looked stunning, long and flowing in green fabric with a kind of lace trim. It looked beautiful on her, not too showy or formal, despite the price.

That was when I saw her. Rosalie and her friend Vera were fooling around with the wedding dresses, pointing and giggling. At first I'd thought that they were picking out a dress for Vera, but her thoughts told me that she'd already been married a while ago. No, this was Rosalie's turn.

"Oh, no, Rosalie. You can't be looking homely. It's not very flattering, even on you," Vera gushed. Rosalie went from disgust to blushing from the compliment.

I tried not to look at them. It wasn't hard, either. Had they not been whispering about me and why _I_ was here, I probably would not have spared them a glance.

"Perhaps he's getting married, Rose!" Vera exclaimed. I rolled my eyes at the comment, but didn't turn around.

Rosalie snorted loudly. "To who? Honestly, I doubt he's even seen any girls besides me, and he's been here _forever._"

Vera giggled softly, touching Rosalie gently on the arm. That was when I realized that I'd turned around, only avoiding their gaze by inches. "Are you _jealous_?" Vera whispered. "Jealous that he hasn't said two words to you, and hasn't wanted to?"

I stared directly at them, not even trying to avoid it. If they wanted to look at me again, I would be looking back.

"I'm not _jealous_," Rosalie said. But her voice was too cool to be natural. She was holding something back, and her thoughts told me that she _was_ exactly that. Jealous. "It's unfortunate for you to think that way. Especially when they're all grovelling for me." By 'they' she meant every man on her doorstep. It was true, they were grovelling.

Vera was slightly disgruntled by Rosalie's comment, looking down into the tiled floor. _It is unfortunate that I think that way. I can't help it! I'm not perfect like you, Rosalie! _I absolutely adored it when people spoke in their head the thoughts they would rather say aloud. That comment she deserved. Rosalie Hale deserved to know that she was mistreating her friend.

Rosalie stopped looking at the overpriced dresses on the rack, knowing that she did not want any of them. Nothing was good enough for the girl. As she stopped looking, her gaze turned to me, and she stared back, angrily. Did she know I was eavesdropping? Did she suspect? I didn't care. It was about time she realized that everyone could hear what she was saying. Her bragging was very loud, especially to me.

"What are you staring at Cullen?" It was her usual greeting to me, obnoxious thing. "You want me, too? Go ahead, say it! Everyone _else_ does!"

My brow furrowed, and I finally decided that I should say something. "I don't want you, Rosalie. No matter what you think, I am uninterested."

At that climactic moment, Esme waltzed out of the dressing room. It was timed so poorly that Rosalie couldn't respond. Not that she wanted to. I had left Rosalie so deeply offended that I was almost proud of myself. She could go and have Royce, and be as spoiled as she always was.

The ruby red dress Esme was now wearing wasn't even half as nice as the last. "No, I think you should get the other one."

She beamed with anticipation. "Alright. I like that one better, too."

--

Carlisle seemed to think that I would be interested in hospital gossip. Actually, it wasn't hospital gossip, it was _bank_ gossip. With our incoming funds, he had made a trip to the bank today to deposit. He went often so that he wouldn't deposit a large sum at once. Still, most of it was upstairs in a safe.

"...And you wouldn't believe what I heard! Young Royce King has just expressed his interest in Rosalie across the street. I think that the Hales should approve, too, since they've been waiting so long for someone as rich as him."

"I have heard, actually," I said, pressing my fingers to my temple. The gesture reminded Carlisle of my talents. How I would have heard it a hundred times more than him.

"Right." He grinned as he said it, taking my earlier tone as jealousy. He still seemed to think that I would fall for this girl, even if she was worse than Tanya.

"Carlisle," Esme scoffed, "Edward isn't interested in the Hale daughter. He never was. Actually, I think he dislikes her, even if she is a pretty girl. You shouldn't imply such things, Carlisle, even if you mean well."

He suddenly became interested in the cuff of his shirt, playing with the white buttons. "What am I implying? It would help if I knew what I was doing wrong..."

I sighed in anger, and Esme went back to talking about her interview with the owner of a house which dated back to the 1800s. That hardly impressed Carlisle, since he'd lived through that time and didn't really think it was very special. Esme all but gushed at the idea of a new renovation project, and began talking quickly about her dress and how it would impress the woman who owned the house.

Carlisle hummed his responses, attempting to engage himself in the conversation. He was more than uninterested, even if he tried to feign interest. It was a little easier to make Esme think he cared about 'ancient' housing than it was to make me think he cared. After all, I could tell what he was thinking.

The conversation took a new direction, thankfully avoiding all topics which included Rosalie or her fiancé-to-be. Instead, Carlisle was rambling on about the neighbourhood, the festival coming up this May, and everything else he could think of. The prospect of sunnier weather didn't seem to bother him, he still didn't think we needed to spend more time indoors.

"...The lilac festival in May should be fun. We can go to Highland Park, all three of us. It should be even better with the enhanced sense of smell, though I doubt any of those flowers will smell as nice as you." Carlisle looked at Esme with fondness again, and she fingered the chain around her neck. He preferred lilies to lilacs, though I couldn't really tell the difference. A flower was a flower.

"Sounds absolutely lovely! I can wear my new dress, and you can pick up a new suit. Something casual yet elegant...I think that tan dress-pants would look nice on you and Edward."

I didn't see the need to plan. It was months away. It was only fall, after all. The Christmas carollers hadn't even begun to sing yet. They were sweet in their own way, planning events, getting dressed up, trying to include me in family things.

Trying to look pleased, I said I would love tan dress-pants, and that Esme's dress was beautiful, and that everything would be nice. Honestly, those kinds of events often depicted having to meet families. Wealthier people like the Hales. There weren't many wealthy families around, but there always were enough to get on my nerves. Those who made themselves better to impress others.

"Have some fun, Edward," Carlisle said, nudging me playfully in the ribs. "Lighten up. There are lots of things to do here. The festivals, the sports, the neighbours. Why don't you try to meet some people?"

I slammed my fists down on the living room table, not meaning to dent it. "Because I'm a _vampire. _We're not supposed to meet the neighbours, we're supposed to_ eat _them. I'm not saying I think it's right, I just know that I can only test my boundaries so far. And the neighbours?" I shook my head violently, dramatically. "If they're all like Rosalie, no thanks."

The upset glance Carlisle gave me forced me to apologize. I really did feel bad for stating everything the way I did, but it wasn't untrue. This place, these people, and Carlisle trying to defy his reactions to blood the way he did...it was unnatural. It wasn't _wrong, _but it wasn't right, either.

It scared me to have those thoughts of before. When I left Carlisle, I'd had those exact thoughts. That this life was unnatural and wrong, and that everything he'd taught me was a lie. I liked this new life, to an extent, and I didn't want to kill humans again, but it still sickened me the way these people went about their lives. The Hales, Royce King, they all lived false lives, going about their daily business instead of thinking that things were wrong. People like Royce could be the worst kind of people, and no one would notice.

No one _did_ notice. No one but me saw past the surface. I was the only mind reader.

**AN: I know that's a bit short, and a bit of filler, but it's necessary to the plot. Tell me what you think about the story so far, and vote in the poll on my profile page. Thanks so much for reading, and remember to send me your thoughts via review or PM! Next chapter will be more about Royce through an actual appearance. Review!**


	10. Invitation

**AN: This is chapter 10! Yay! The next few chapters are going to take a long time to come out, but I'll try to release a new one every week or two. I can always use suggestions, so don't feel shy to review! Reviews make my day!**

Chapter 10:Invitation

I'll always remember the night when Royce climbed into Rosalie's window. Lucky for him that it was on the first floor. It was a sad attempt, especially with his arms full of flowers. He'd been putting them in her room every night. Roses. How cliché.

She was so happy when he was around. The way he would tuck his arm behind her back always pleased her to pieces. I knew that she'd fallen apart with joy when her father had announced her engagement to him.

The first day she'd met Royce her thoughts had poured of him. She'd never seen it coming, being Rosalie, though it was blatantly obvious what her parents intentions were. Lilian Hale had dressed her daughter in a pretty new dress just to go to the bank, but Rosalie had still not understood what was becoming of her relationship with Royce. One day, one day and she was his bride-to-be.

It repulsed me for some time what Royce would think of her. In his mind he would strip her down to bare basics, control her, watch her from across the street. He never put his thoughts into action, but I could imagine he would. His friends would joke of the lovely little Rosalie, the prize that Royce would one day bring home.

The Hales' remained oblivious to the boy's actions, thinking that he was a sweet young man who enjoyed doting on their daughter. The roses he had delivered to the door smelt just as sweet as the ones he snuck into her room at night. And he would gaze on his prize with a smirk on his face, thinking of the times to come.

Perhaps the worst of it all was how _I _reacted to the disgusting events unfolding across the street. I didn't want to stop it, and I didn't take it seriously. Rosalie Hale deserved what she got, for treating everyone so poorly. And Royce King deserved whatever jail they would lock him up in if he actually carried though his assault plans.

But one afternoon a postman arrived on our doorstep with an invitation. Thick, fancy paper, inscribed with fancy calligraphy. It was only to be polite, I was sure, since the Hales' didn't really like us much. It was an invitation to Rosalie and Royce's engagement party.

The actual wedding was due to be an exclusive affair. The kind of affair that Cullen's didn't get invited to. According to Esme, however, the party was going to be fancy enough that myself and Carlisle would get to wear the nice outfits she bought us. Joy.

"It was so nice of Lillian to invite us to their party," Esme gushed that night. "I'll have to make something for the dinner. Maybe a fruit tart? I assume people like those, I always thought they looked charming, and very tasty. Of course, I wouldn't eat one, since they smell so repulsive..." Her rant continued that way, and I tried my best to block it out.

Dinner. Dancing. Rosalie. Royce. Tomorrow. Night.

Maybe it was a bad dream. If I could sleep, that's what I would blame this on. There was only one reason why they would invite us to a party: to humiliate us. They just wanted to make themselves look better than us, even if it meant acting like children.

–––––––––

The front of the King's house was decorated to look like a night sky. The dark blue siding was embellished with tiny white lights, and the lawn was covered with tea lights, as well. Their mansion clearly stated a high income, which was unusual for this year. A lot of families were having problems just getting by.

We walked up to the porch, and knocked on the door. Esme was in the front, her arms folded across her stomach. Carlisle was, as always, standing protectively behind her. I only waited.

"Hello. I'm Royce King the first. May I help you?" Like so many people who said that, he didn't sound like he wanted to help us at all. For a man his size, and of his girth, his face was bony and stuck at odd angles. He looked almost like a crow, because of his nose sticking out from his square visage.

"Yes," Carlisle said firmly, "We were invited here for an engagement party. Haven't we met before, Mister King?"

"Ah yes," He said back. _Those Cullen devils. _"Come on in, Doctor...Cullen. Lillian Hale told me all about you."

Royce King the First didn't know how close he was to the truth. But we weren't devils, we were _vampires. _Vegetarians, lucky for him, but not if he treated me the way I expected him to. Anyone who had assisted in the birth of Royce King the Second could not be human. In fact, I half expected him to be a vampire, too.

The ceilings weren't decorated with odd coloured crepe paper the way they often were. This was a party for a family who had large sums of money–enough so to afford crystal chandeliers that reflected the lamplight. At the end of each hall was a portrait of the first generation of Kings. His wife, draped in furs and silks, was a constant theme for the painter. She was very ordinary looking, like her husband, though had managed to produce someone who looked as handsome as Royce. Of course, Royce wasn't so handsome on the _inside_.

We didn't really know what to do at the party. Spending most of our days indoors, we weren't really used to socializing the same as the Kings and Hales were. The odd stares I got made me slightly uncomfortable as I walked around the large room, looking at everything and everyone.

The woman I recognized as Royce Senior's wife was more than displeased at having me there. She pointed her nose down at me, and sniffed with sullen discontent. _Why do they all have to come here looking so perfect? The older one and his brother-in-law even matched what they're wearing. It's sickening._

"Hello, Mrs. King. I'm Edward, Doctor Cullen's brother-in-law."

_It's so strange that everyone calls him a Cullen when I heard he's an Evenson,_ Mrs. King thought. _It's more like they've adopted him, when he's far too old to be their son. _

"Nice to meet you, Edward. I suppose Lillian Hale invited you?" _That woman has such a strong favouritism with men. _"Make yourself at home. Haven't you eaten? In any case, there will be dancing, soon."

I went searching for Lillian, wondering what exactly her motivations were for inviting us, but I ran into Rosalie, instead. It was more than inconvenient, really, since she was the _last _person I wanted to see.

"Hello, Rosalie," I said to her. "I guess I forgot to wish you congratulations for your engagement. I've been busy helping Carlisle at the hospital lately."

_More like he's been busy with the female population of Rochester, _Rosalie thought.

"It's fine," she said at last. "I know you are very busy people. Help yourself to the hors d'oeuvres, and find a girl to dance with. There are plenty around." _And if he picks Vera, I swear to _God_ that I will never speak to her ever again. What is the big deal with her, anyway?_

"It was very kind of your family to invite us, but I was actually on my way to locate Esme and Carlisle. If you'll excuse me..." I nodded my head at her politely, and just caught her thoughts, _He's on his way to _locate_ them. Who does he think he's fooling using words like that? He didn't learn them at medical school like the doctor..._

Of no surprise to myself, Carlisle was being harassed by Lillian Hale. She had on a very short dress and tights which were far from opaque. There was no trouble thinking about the kind of attention she hoped to receive wearing _that_ outfit.

"Doctor Cullen," she said in her high, pointy voice. "I'm so glad you came. I haven't had a chance to talk to you in _ages._" She brought a hand to her shoulder, touching one of her red-blonde curls and flipping it to the other side. Esme's jaw pushed forward slightly.

"There isn't much time to talk to the neighbours. You see, I am so busy that I often get home very late into the night," Carlisle explained.

"Nonsense," Lillian scoffed, her voice heavier this time, "You can visit any time you like." _The night, preferably. _

I gave Carlisle the warning look I always did when women were thinking indecent things which could land him in trouble. If her husband happened to show up, seeing her acting like that, there was no doubt in my mind that trouble would stir.

"I think I'd like to go dance with my wife," Carlisle said placidly, laying a hand on Esme's shoulder. "Maybe you should find your husband and toast some champagne. Thank you so much for inviting us, Lillian, but I must talk to you later."

The frown that lined her face was more than obvious. "If you must leave," she said, and grimaced at Esme, who was swaying gracefully towards the dance floor.

A girl with chestnut hair and hazel eyes came over to me. She was blatantly shy, obviously so by the way she was staring at her feet. The dress she was wearing was pale green, and looked elegant on her. Her skin was at least three shades darker than mine, and hot with pulsing blood. That was the problem, being in a room like this: all the people.

Still, she looked sad all alone. I actually saw her brush a tear from her eye along with strands of her hair. I walked to her slowly, and she turned as if to walk away.

"Would you care to dance?" I asked her. She looked up, making sure that I was talking to her. Then slowly, carefully, she nodded.

"I'm Edward," I told her, taking her left hand in my right. She flinched slightly at my touch, but still held on. The blood inside her smelt good, but no more so than the average person. I had to resist the urge to snap her neck and move onto everyone else in the room. It was a very good thing that I wasn't thirsty.

"I'm...Marina," she whispered back, reaching up to finish the dancing stance. She was very shocked by how I moved, and I could hear it in her thoughts. _He is very graceful,_ she thought, _more so than Bryson. _Bryson. Unusual name.

"Are you here with a date?" I asked, not wanting to infringe on anybody who was here with her. She really did deserve someone to care for her.

"I was," she said, "but I'm not anymore." _I would be here with him now if he didn't leave last night. What are Mother and Father going to do when they find out? _

She had been engaged. Expecting child, too, by the sound of things. And I could feel the fear in her movements, the quivering attempts at dancing. The tears that sprung to her eyes would have been unexpected to anyone but me.

"I'm sorry," she said when I looked at her red eyes. "You really are a sweet gentleman. But see that little lady down there with the black hair? She's my mother, and she's wondering why I'm not dancing with my Bryson." _Bryson. Bryson. Bryson. _The name rang in her thoughts again and again as she pictured his perfection. "Maybe another time, Edward. You really are a fine dancer."

The longing that swelled inside me was not just for her, but for all the girls. I did not envy their men, but I envied their lives. I wished I could be the one to kneel on one knee and clasp a tiny hand in mine. Devote my love not to her, but a girl like her. It was hopeless, impractical, but I wanted the fantasy life they were all living. As much as I hated to admit it, I envied the peace in their souls.

**AN: So that's it! I personally really like this chapter, and it has more substance than the rest. I didn't get much about Royce in this, but I did have him in the beginning. By the way, don't PM me being mad because Edward danced with a girl. He felt bad because she was alone, and that's all. She's not coming back, people! smile **

**REVIEW, REVIEW, REVIEW(singing in my head)**


	11. Demands

Chapter 11: Demands

The cold, cruel ringing of the clock in Carlisle's study was echoing in my head. He was in there, doing some research, but each time he thought of time passing, time passed in my mind.

That night at the King's mansion had lent me some knowledge of what the life of a _human_ in Rochester might be like. The only problem with that theory was that most people lacked the monetary income to live like a King. Of course, that was not really a negative, since the Kings were horrible, selfish, and greedy people. And I wished I was being dramatic.

_I wonder where he is, _A male thought rang clear. Carlisle's voice. _He spends so much time alone, away from us...If Esme knew what he was going through, she wouldn't blame him for his absence..._

The last thought about Esme made me upset. Of all people, I doubted that Esme had blamed me for leaving them. But who else was there to blame? No one but me and my stupid rebellious side! What had I done?!

_Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. _

If anyone had ever felt like this, if anyone even realized what had made me this way... But that was just it. There was no one. _Tick. Tock_. It was stupid to think that way, I was only being an idiot. This was my time to be the teenager I had never really been. Every teenager had rebelled at one point and time... But I couldn't really remember Edward Masen much, anyway. That version of myself was very different from Edward Cullen, and it was time I realized it.

This world was so wrong. Why couldn't people stop thinking of themselves? I had thought of myself, and landed myself in Rochester with a mother and father who pained thinking of what I'd done to them. No matter what Rosalie thought, there were people so much worse off than her. Like that poor girl Marina who had a fiancée who left her and a baby still in her belly. Rosalie's being afraid of others judging her couldn't match up to that.

It seemed that the more I listened to Carlisle, and Rosalie, the farther away I could hear their thoughts. Carlisle, in his study far from my room, seemed to be right next to me, while Rosalie seemed to be in Carlisle's study. Strange how it worked, but it hardly surprised me any more.

Rosalie Hale was in a very dismal mood today, not that it was any indication of her lifestyle. _Last night,_ she thought, _he hardly paid any attention to me. It was our engagement party, so why wouldn't he speak with me? He was there, of course, and he laughed at the jokes, and he smiled, but it was all...all for show. I don't mind looking pretty for his friends, but I hope he doesn't take it too far... _I lost concentration, and instead found another familiar voice amongst the others.

_He's fine, I'm sure. _Esme's reassuring tone was never hard to find. _If I go up there, he'll probably only be listening to those records of his. He plays them loudly, when he doesn't need to. I suppose I should finish cleaning up. Maybe some guests will come. The man with my new carpet samples, or the one with Edward's piano..._ I wished I hadn't heard that one. The fact that they were showering me with gifts was enough to drive me insane. Besides, I'd never learned to play piano, so why should I start. Insanity.

As soon as she thought of the piano, a sharp knock radiated from the front door. I ghosted down the stairs, but Esme caught the door handle in time.

"Not now," she said unwaveringly. "There's a surprise for you."

"I've already seen it in your head," I said, "so there's no reason to..." I trailed off as the man entered the house, and started to hold my breath. He made Esme sign a sheet of paper, and then went outside. Three more men helped him carry parts of the piano, which he struggled to fit in through the doorway.

They started to assemble it in the living room, and I was transfixed to watch. The black sculpture was something beyond that of a piece of furniture, or a statue, it was...it seemed to be _alive_. Even as it stood there, dark and hard, the sun shining on it from the window made it more living than instrument. It was a gift I would never have asked for, but it was mine.

"Isn't it beautiful, Edward?" She asked, but I remained speechless. No words would come out of my mouth as I stared at it.

The men laid down the piano bench, and I sat on it, not even waiting for them to leave. Two of them, big burly men, looked slightly softer as they watched me, eyes straining for a glance of my complete felicity.

As the door closed behind them I inhaled, enjoying the scent of cold ivory keys. It wasn't a scent at all, but an absence of scent. That enticed me, the fact that there was so much I could put into the dead keys.

My fingers traced the ebony and ivory, not knowing where to begin. If I could read music, I would have started by playing something I knew, but I couldn't. Still, I liked the sound of every key. When the hammers hit the strings, something unfamiliar radiated inside me. It was love at first sight, in a way, or love at first _sound. _

I was dimly aware of Esme, leaning intently toward the scene from a distance. She was listening, watching as I tried to learn the mechanics of the thing. It was simple enough, the pitch would change slightly from low to high with every white key, and sharpen slightly with every black key, from left to right.

Suddenly, I knew what to do with my eternity. I would sit on the bench and make music for Esme. She could heed, and know that her son was not lost. There would be songs for her, ones that I composed, and she would smile. Then Carlisle could hear me from upstairs and not think that all was lost. Both of them. They could see that I was myself. The happy child, the Edward _Masen _I had once been.

The first song would be for Esme, and the rest would be for every other person I loved.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

I tore myself away from my new love to watch as Royce King sat cross-legged in front of Rosalie's window. It was less watching and more listening, but my intent was the same. Humans had become a distinct fascination for me, though they were dull at the best of times.

"Rose, Rosie, Rosalie..." He repeated her name in every form imaginable, arms full of roses for his 'love'. To think of her as his 'love', though, his aim would have to be far different.

Rosalie yawned and stretched, thinking that she was dreaming of Royce and not seeing him. After his repulsive behaviour, she believed that she would never dream of him again.

"Why are you here Royce? It's so late! Or early, I guess-" He pressed a finger to her lips as he stood up, and they parted beneath his fingers.

"Because you are the most beautiful person I've ever seen, and I want you. Now, Rosalie, since you are to be my wife." The roses spilled to the ground as he tried to pass them to her. I saw her hands weaken, sink as she heard what he said.

"You have to wait," she said. "It's wrong for you to be here...and it's wrong for you to say that..." she cleared her throat. "Just wait, Royce, and I'll give you what you want."

_Did she deny me...Deny me? She'll never do it again! I swear she won't! She can't! She's _MINE_, and she won't deny or defy me! _Fury built inside Royce's head, but unlike me, Rosalie couldn't hear it. His conversation stayed calm, though, carefully planned.

"I'll wait then," Royce King lied, hoping for all he was worth that she would take him then and there. He leaned forward, through her window, straining his lips upward so that they could touch hers. I watched in horror as he grasped the front of her shirt, pulling her in so close that she was almost choking.

The violence of his touch endeared her. She pulled him closer, too, and returned his kiss. But why couldn't she see what he was doing. He was going to hurt her, didn't she see that? Stupid Rosalie. She didn't understand that it wasn't passion but _fury_ that was building inside his head.

"Goodnight, Royce. I need to breathe. But tomorrow I might have more for you..."

And I knew that the grin he had was not because he wanted to _love _Rosalie, but because he wanted to see what she had to offer. Her words were exactly what he wanted to hear.

She closed the shutters to her window surreptitiously, and Royce waltzed off of her lawn, feeling as proud as if he had won a prize. In his mind, he had. The sickening desire inside of him was leaking onto my mind, and it made me feel unclean. Shouldn't she feel unclean, too?

No, Rosalie Hale had already begun dreaming. Dreaming of Royce for the first time in days, and enjoying every moment of it. The Royce King in her dreams was very different, however. He was a gentleman of the kindest sort. The image of Royce would hold out his hand and offer her a carriage ride. He would give her a beautiful, blonde haired child that giggled and raced with his brothers and sisters across the garden._ Her _Royce King kissed her children's cuts better, and hers, too. _That _Royce didn't invade her privacy every night and think things no unmarried man should think.

Eyebrows knitting together, I went back to the piano and began playing again. Some people I would never write songs for. People like Royce King.

**AN: So there you have it! It's a bit short, I know, but it does have a lot of things in it to think about. Sorry, but the next chapter won't be out until after I get back from my trip to Halifax. And I have a piano theory test soon, so that writes off a lot of time. In a couple weeks I'll have another chapter, I promise! **

**To the eighty people following this story: thank you so much for reading, and I would love it if you send me your thoughts. It encourages me to keep writing Edward's story to the best of my ability. **

**I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter which was inspired by my piano! :)**


	12. Composition

**AN: To clarify some things, I have taken some liberty with the story for dramatic effect. For instance, as dsolo** **pointed out, Rosalie didn't live across the street from the Cullens. I knew this all along, but having her right there makes the story flow better. Also, then Edward can have more insight into the goings-ons of the Hales. **

**Drama aside, I'd like to thank dsolo for help with the time period things, as well as all my other reviewers who pick up on the tiny details. **

**Yes, this story **_**is**_** a little bit alternate-universe. **

Chapter 12: Composition

The engagement between Rosalie and Royce was as famous as they were. Congratulations were thrown around daily, as well as gifts to Rosalie that could nearly top Royce's.

Every night which he came to her window she would send him away, until she learned to lock the latch. She didn't seem to care, but even her mind gave no insight into whether she did or not.

Esme tried to convince Lillian Hale to let her decorate the ballroom, but she was only met with a resentful stare. They ignored us thoroughly, thinking that we were some kind of fancy business' people, looking to scam them.

I only watched, realizing the consequence of interfering. They were coddled people, and coddled people became dangerous when their world was ripped from them.

In the living room I played a new song on the piano. To me, it told a familiar story. A tale I had not been willing to tell aloud. The problems that came with the new life and the open arms, linked with the good things, the love I got from them. There would always be the resentment I felt, the sullen doubt, but I would get through. This song was the proof.

Suddenly, I felt myself concentrate on the melody. The right hand showed the light, the new, and the left hand was minor and dark, though hidden behind the tinkling keys of the right. I smiled at my creation, glad that as a vampire I didn't have to commit it to memory.

Feeling eyes on my back, I turned to meet them. Carlisle grinned proudly, running a finger over the piano's ebony frame.

"I never guessed you were as blessed as your mother said you were. With the piano, I mean." He calmly turned back to stare at the keys again.

"As my mother said I was?" To say I was confused was an understatement.

Carlisle nodded. _So he truly doesn't remember?_ "Your mother told me you had hopes of becoming a pianist when you recovered from the flu. She was going to buy you a grand piano, just like this one."

It fit. The story certainly did slide into place, another puzzle piece I'd been missing. Of course, the piano had _seemed_ familiar, like a lost face, but I didn't actually remember it. The more he said, though, the more I realized I had heard it before. The piano was one of the nicer details of my past that I had blocked along with the bad.

I traced circles on the keys. Had I played that song before? It was hard not to fear that I was living it all over again, entranced by how familiar it all seemed.

_It's sad, really, _Carlisle thought. _I figured he'd remember a lot more of his humanity. A lot more than his mother's name. _

The memory of my home in Chicago had faded to an impossibly faint thread. It moved, from time to time, surging when it was struck with a reminder. But sometimes it lay so still that all I could remember was, as Carlisle had thought, my mother's name. Elizabeth Masen.

"I still kind of remember her," I said. "She had beautiful green eyes, and an infectious smile. She loved me, and she was happy. Cheerful." Until the end, at least.

"Of course she loved you," Carlisle said, continuing to stare at me as I played the song I was writing for Esme. Now that I thought about it, I remembered feeling the same love for my own mother.

————

It was a rainy afternoon when I stepped out of the house again. Across the street, Rosalie was signing for more flowers which had been delivered courtesy Royce King the Second.

Pretending to act surprised, she stuck her face into the bouquet and inhaled greedily. Her curls hung in a way that covered her eyes, but I could picture her expression, her reaction to another gift. I knew she was happier than to be expected.

From the hedges surrounding the Hale's front lawn, Royce watched her with anticipating eyes. If she was a man I would have called her a cretin, not to notice him there, plain as day.

_Bet she likes that,_ Royce thought repulsively. _The money behind me. There are other sorts of gifts I can supply her with, though. _

The man had gall, to think of a women so indecently. But it was Royce, what did I expect?

Out of nowhere I was hit with the overwhelming urge to save her. I wanted to tell her everything that was going on, and warn her of Royce's behaviour. She deserved that luxury, at least.

I sprinted across the paving stones, hoping Royce wouldn't see me. It was human speed, and unfortunately, slow enough for him to detect. He saw me, anyway, but stayed in the bushes. If he came out, Rosalie would know he'd been spying on him.

"I need to talk to you," I whispered to Rosalie. She gave me an obviously dismissive glare.

"Who _are_ you?" She looked away, her hair creating a curtain between us.

"You know who I am. I'm Edward. Listen to me, please." I looked to the bushes, and Royce was still there. "Royce wishes to harm you."

"Get away from me," she spat. "I've never seen you in my life. If you have an issue with Royce, I suggest you leave it until after our marriage. I know you're only jealous, Edwin."

I didn't even correct her on her mistake. Royce watched me with intense eyes, and for once I felt afraid. Even knowing that he couldn't touch me, I was afraid for anyone else that _could _be touched by him.

————

"It's February fourteenth," Carlisle explained. "I had this whole thing planned for the occasion..."

"I don't see what it matters, we never celebrated _before_." Before Esme, not that she didn't deserve it. This was just going to be another time when I was out of place.

He looked down on me, a little disappointed. "Anyway, I want you to pick up the lilies from the flower shop. I'll stay here with her."

I grumbled a bit, then pulled on a jacket. People would think it was strange if I walked out into the snow-shower without even a jacket on.

The flower shop was far into town, but no problem if I was running. I just needed to find a spot where I could come out, unseen. I picked an alleyway connected to a more run-down part of the city. It was a little inconspicuous, which was perfect.

What I didn't see at first was the man _in _the alleyway. He staggered, bumping into me as I passed.

"Sorry," I grumbled, shuffling my way past him. He put a thick hand on my shoulder. Another piece fell into place as I recognized him. Royce. And he wasn't alone.

"Stop," he said, slurring all the sounds together. "You...You were with my Rose this morning..."

I was surprised he could remember that, in his current state. "I don't know what you're talking about," I said clearly, backing away as quickly as I could manage.

He stumbled toward me again. "Don't you touch my Rose! She's all _mine_! You can't have her!" His friends mumbled agreement, some of them moving forwards, but a couple only falling down where they stood, reaching for another bottle next to one of the brick walls.

I debated fervently what to do next. Killing them all was definitely an option, but one that would not go unnoticed. If I did that now, on _Valentine's Day_ of all days, Carlisle and I would definitely have to move out. We'd be prime suspects, living across the street from Royce's fiancée.

Or I could make them all pass out, which they'd be in a few minutes anyway.

In one motion I moved back towards them, breathing into Royce's face. The scent of the venom on my breath made him fall over. Like always, it was extremely difficult not to simply kill him right there. He was so close, so vulnerable...

But it wasn't a choice I could make. Carlisle was the only one who kept me from devouring Royce that second. However repulsive he was, his blood would taste as good as any other's. Only my father's insistence that I stick to the vegetarian diet kept me sane, and that was lucky for Royce, too.

As calmly as I could manage, I walked around the corner to the flower shop. It was hard not to look back and check if Royce was following, but I was pretty sure that they were out cold. The alcohol coupled with the effect my predator breath had on him was going to keep him sleeping for a while.

"Looking to buy your sweetheart some flowers, honey?" The nasally voice of the old woman behind the counter shot me back to reality.

"No, actually." I looked away from her, back to the door. I still had time. "I just want some lilies for my mother. Three dozen, if you have that many..."

She looked a little staggered. "I do, but I'll have to go in the back and look around. You okay by yourself, dear?"

I narrowed my eyebrows. "Yes, I think I'm just _fine._" The bite on the end of my words made her yelp a little. I had to calm down. Hunt something. And then calm down.

"Here are your flowers, sir. Have a nice day." She made all the words run together, and fast, considering her age. I had frightened her.

Three dozen yellow lilies. Beautiful, too. "Don't you want your money? I was going to tip, too." I flashed her a dazzling smile, and she looked back at me, with a grin that reflected youth.

"Here," I pressed the money into her hand. She looked down and gasped, trying to compose herself. "_You_ have a nice day."

————

I slid in through the doorway to the dining room–appearance only–and lay the bouquet on the table. Carlisle was there, with a vase. He smiled, but had a suspicious look on his face.

_What took him so long?_ he thought. _It should have only taken him a few minutes, at the very maximum. _

"I ran into some friends of Rosalie, across the street. You know them. Royce King, and his band of less-than-moral villains."

Carlisle's eyebrows narrowed slightly, and then went right back to arranging the flowers. "Edward. You have to contain yourself. It's just as immoral to kill them, no matter who they are."

"I didn't kill anybody! I wanted to, trust me, but I did contain myself. They're in the alleyway now, passed out from drinking."

He sighed, but smiled slightly. It was comforting knowing that he trusted me, that everything would be all right. It would, wouldn't it? I was trying not to have my doubts, but here, on Valentine's Day, it seemed like everything was going well.

Something slammed down hard on the floor. Turning around I saw Esme, staring at us with her binder of carpet samples spread out on the hardwood. She'd dropped it when she saw the lilies scattered across the table.

"Um...Surprise?" I smiled weakly at her, but she was still stunned. It took her a second to respond.

"What's all this for?"

"Valentine's Day!"

She'd forgotten. Brilliant. "I thought we didn't celebrate-" I silenced her with my sheepish glance. It was supposed to tell her that Carlisle had worked hard, so she should pretend to be happy about it. I never thought it was hard to please her, before.

"Thanks so much! I love both of you." She said it simply, and we already knew.

Carlisle brought the lilies to the piano, where he laid the vase on top of it. I sat down on the bench, letting her sit next to me, and gave her the only gift I could. I played her a song, a complex melody that had even more complex meaning behind it.

It was a song meant for her, and named after her. Because she was my mother, she deserved something. I swear, she didn't even know how much it meant for me to call my composition _Esme._

**AN: so that's kind of sweet! Sorry for the delay, and everything, but there's going to be another short hiatus for my vacation to Bermuda! In a couple weeks I'll have a new chapter, but in the meantime you could always read my new story **_**Turning Forty**_**. **

**As always, I appreciate reviews and messages. Some feedback would be great, and if you send your thoughts I'll try to write back. Even a couple words would be nice!**

**Thanks for reading, and I'll have more in a little while. **


	13. Premonition

Chapter 13: Premonition

I'd seen it coming, yet I could not have prevented it.

_April_

As each day passed, I grew more anxious. Not because of what was going on around me, but because of what _wasn't_. I craved the excitement, the _life _-for lack of a better word- of my former state of being in Chicago. What I had then was not even comparable to what I had now. Solitary, the stone-like creature I'd become was a little less friendly.

I hadn't seen the pretty little girl who usually came for Rosalie. Not in a very long time. Actually, since that day in the dress shop, I hadn't lain eyes on...Vera? Yes, that had been her name. She'd be a newlywed now, in the countryside with her handsome husband.

But she'd be back for Rosalie's wedding next week...Not that it mattered. It was ridiculous how I tried to turn everything into a production. Vera, a kind, pretty girl, was not a monstrosity. She wasn't going to come in and ruin everything. She probably wouldn't even come at all.

That was what Rosalie thought, anyway. Her mind was like my own, now. Almost as vivid as Carlisle and Esme's minds, inside my own. I lived life by looking at her, watching her as intently as Royce, though not for the same purpose. The shallowness, the ease of her mind, made it easy to follow.

She'd spent a lot of time at the mansion known to be the Kings' Estate. It was a fairly large house, with beautiful architecture. She never minded going into that part of town.

But on that day she had other things on her mind, though they did relate to Royce. Some women were over to make some adjustments to her dress, let her taste some cake, ask her which flowers she'd like in the church. Those sorts of things.

While watching it all I felt a pang of longing in my own chest. It struck me as feminine, at first, to want so badly to go to the church and see the flowers that some girl would pick out. Maybe she'd look like Marina, with chestnut hair and hazel eyes. The dream girl, the one I'd conjured purely in my imagination, would want me, too.

Like some kind of ghost, Vera rang _my _doorbell, anxiously waiting on the porch step.

She looked startled when I opened the door, and stared down at her. "Yes?"

"This isn't the Hale residence, is it?" She asked, knowing my response. She was smart, and should have known better. After all, she had visited Rosalie's house many times in her lifetime. Even if that was months ago.

"Obviously," I snipped. She was taken aback by this, and looked down to the ground. I instantly felt guilty -something I hardly ever did feel- and apologized profusely.

"Her house is across the street...Don't you remember it?"

A pang of memory in her mind alerted me to the fact that she most certainly did remember. She waved her hand to the man in the driver's seat of her car, and he pulled into the driveway which he should have in the first place.

She answered in her own head, but didn't say it out loud. _I paid more attention to this house than Rosalie's. _

She wouldn't have been the first married woman to find herself attracted to myself or Carlisle. Or Esme, for that matter. What struck me was how she'd acted before. If that truly was the way it was, why would she have gone along with Rosalie's insults? No, that wasn't my place.

"I'll see you soon, Vera. Congratulations on your marriage to Ian. And your son."

I thought she'd glare at me, wondering how I knew so much. Instead, she nodded and smiled.

– – – –

It wasn't like me to keep tabs on Rosalie, but today I felt strange. I'd read _Romeo and Juliet_ many times, and never known what the protagonist had meant when he said that he'd "dreamt a dream tonight". For obvious reasons, I hadn't _dreamt a dream_ in a while. But I did feel superstitious when I thought of Romeo, and how he'd predicted the night by a force unforseen.

Perhaps this was why I watched as Royce meandered his way to Rosalie's house, as usual, drunk. She was at Vera's since she'd come to take her to some shops, and do each other's hair like little girls. That uninterested me. Royce, on the other hand, did.

I couldn't help but feel the aching that told me Rosalie should stay where she was. Maybe Vera's husband could fend him off if Royce came looking for his bride-to-be. Or maybe Royce didn't want to look for Rosalie at all. It wouldn't be the first time he'd completely ignored her.

He trampled through the garden and looked at Rosalie's window for a moment. Undisturbed by the silence he was disrupting, he thrust up his hand and threw a glass bottle against the window. It smashed, being only glass, and he waited for her shriek.

The scream never came, since she wasn't there, and he left. I knew how the event would play out. Like every other weekend, he'd find some friends as drunk as he was. Hopefully his _dearest_ Rosalie would know to stay away.

I collapsed on the sofa, and closed my eyes. Getting out of New York, this nightmare, would be harder if I let a little thing like Rosalie Hale bother me. I would have been grateful to sleep, of all things, just to get it out of my mind.

Paranoia was hard to shake, but useless. Even if I'd known what was about to happen, there was no way I'd have gone to save her. She was just a distraction from what I was supposed to be: _a monster_.

What made Rosalie different from the other girls I'd left for dead? Nothing. They would all hold me back, keep me from realizing what I was meant for. And she wasn't meant for me. If she'd shown compassion, bravery, endearing qualities, maybe then I'd rush to make her mine. Even then, nature should take its course. All humans should, eventually, die.

So I put her out of my mind. For a moment.

– – – –

I knew that my premonition was correct when I saw Carlisle. He'd been in the hospital late, for a night shift. It was almost dawn, but he looked darker than ever.

His lips held a faint ruby lustre, and there was only one reason why. He wiped his lips with a handkerchief, and disposed of it in the fire. His face was smudged with dirt, and blood was caked to his brow. Her blood.

Rosalie lay on the carpet, her eyes peacefully closed. Each scream that sounded from her lips seemed to be odd to me. How could she scream when she looked like she was sleeping. Once or twice, it seemed that her mouth was twitched into a smile.

Her blouse was undone, and I would see the teeth marks on her neck. He'd done the job, alright, without even thinking to ask me. Who could ever wonder what I, Edward, would think?

"I'm so sorry, Rosalie," Carlisle whispered, "It'll be over soon."

"Why?" I asked, and for a second he looked up at me. Esme disapproved of the way I looked at the girl on the carpet, thinking over and over again that I was crazy. How could I be mad at him for saving her? "You must be out of your mind. And I thought you were the sane one."

"She's only a girl, Edward, she had her life ahead of her..." His mutters were almost believable.

"A coddled life," I shot back, "a pampered life. A _spoiled _life."

Esme didn't say a word. It wasn't like her to interfere when Carlisle and I talked to each other like this. But it was the one time that I argued and thought we wouldn't make up.

He looked up at me from the floor, his brow creased in frustration. "You were coddled, too, once."

Rosalie screamed, but I didn't look at her. I kept thinking that if I forgot about her, maybe Carlisle would, too. Maybe he'd bring her back where she came from, and leave it at that. We didn't have to talk about it again. Rosalie, the spoiled girl we left behind. I doubted Carlisle could leave her bleeding on the street any more than a little boy could leave a bleeding puppy.

I paced past them, into the kitchen, and back again. "What were you thinking, Carlisle?" The screaming died down. "_Rosalie Hale?_"

_I thought he was better than this, _Carlisle thought. He knew I could hear him, and he wanted me to.

"I couldn't just let her die," he whispered. It was quiet, even with the crackle of the fire. The girl had stopped shrieking in pain. I hoped that she'd died, for a moment. "It was too much—too horrible, too much waste."

"I know," I said back, hoping to end the conversation. Carlisle wasn't giving up the fight.

"It was too much waste," he said again. "I couldn't leave her."

Esme finally spoke up, hoping to end the argument. She laid a hand on his shoulder. "Of course you couldn't." She recoiled at the sent of blood on his face, and went back to the couch. That time, she'd feared losing control. I didn't fear it, the thought of sinking my teeth into Rosalie almost disgusted me.

I looked back at Carlisle, and his soft eyes sunk back into mine. "People die all the time." my voice cut with a sharper edge, and they both knew it. "Don't you think she's just a little recognizable, though? The Kings will have to put up a huge search—not that anyone suspects the fiend." It had to be Royce, especially when he'd been lurking around.

How could I be so cold? I'd known this would happen, and I still hadn't wanted to prevent it. Rosalie was just another girl, and I hadn't wanted to take note of her. She wasn't someone I could get along with, let alone _live _with. No, that wasn't an option. She'd go somewhere else, of course.

Would I have saved her if she'd been bleeding on the street? Maybe so, but I was no little boy. I didn't need a pet, no matter what Carlisle seemed to think. I knew that's why he took her, because he thought my fascination with the cruel woman would turn into affection. It took a fair bit of reasoning for me to even determine that she was a woman, if only because of the way she acted.

My foot actually broke through one of the floorboards when I marched up the stairs. I was pleased by this, as it would give me a distraction. Maybe if I fixed the stairs, my hammer would be louder than her shrieking. Her screams were quiet now, and I almost pitied her.

Neither the Hales nor the Kings had heard the screams at all. Lillian Hale slept soundly while her little girl writhed on the floor.

I dreamt a dream that night, if only through Rosalie's mind. She was waiting for death, open to it. In her mind she saw a little black haired boy, and watched him grow to a man. It was the same little boy in the back of Vera's car, who'd been waving to me. I'd dismissed him, but maybe he was important to Rosalie.

If she'd survived the night, she could have lived like Vera, in a big estate. Maybe even loved Royce. Maybe he'd love her back.

But this was shallow, and that was why she wasn't worth saving. At least, that's what I told myself.

Carlisle and Esme watched from the side as I walked down the stairs again, going to her on the carpet. Their faces showed gloomy smiles as I ran a finger across her forehead, then each of the marks on her neck, wrists, ankles.

My mind chimed aimlessly. _Why, Carlisle? Why Rosalie Hale? _

– – – –

**AN: A couple more chapters, and this story is done. I enjoyed writing this part, and I think I did a pretty good job. It's been really delayed, I know, but I think that this chapter is worth it. I hope nobody is upset that I skipped a couple months. **

**After my exams are over I can commit to finishing this one! Maybe I'll write a sequel! There's a poll on my profile page concerning this story that I'd like you to vote in. It only takes a second! **

**If you'd like to review, take the time to go through the entire chapter in detail. Other than that, just PM me. **

**Thanks for reading! This huge author's note is done!**


	14. Enhanced Tenacity

Chapter 14: Enhanced Tenacity

Her eyes didn't flutter open the way I expected. Like a thrash of pain, they shot open with intensity. I watched carefully as her chest filled with unnecessary air. Her back arched, and her mouth widened.

I tried desperately to stand, but it was clear that I wasn't fast enough. Her hands shot forward as quickly as her eyes, and she sat up, grabbing onto the collar of my shirt in the process. I tried to stand again, but her force was too great.

"WHAT'S HAPPENING?!" She screamed. While she _was_ confused, I was terrified to be in the centre of her rage. She silenced a bit, and touched her throat with one hand. I guessed that she was surprised such a noise could come out of it.

"I'm not dead ...," she whispered, mainly to herself. She looked down into her lap, noticing that she was still wearing the same skirt that she had before. It was creased with salt and blood, stained beyond repair. This displeased her. "Why am I not dead?"

Carlisle moved in and gently separated her fingers from the collar that was dangerously close to my throat. "Calm down, Rosalie. Everything will be explained in due time."

She inhaled again. "Royce." She stated his name as if it was something foreign, and then with more force gave him a title other than _King._ "That drunkard! That _bastard!_" She closed her eyes, this time muttering to herself. "No, Rosalie. You can't lose your temper over him. You've already lost everything else."

So she understood. I recognized that she had knowledge of what had happened by her thoughts, but the rest was alarming. As she came to realize the extent of what had happened, her thoughts grew more graphic...

_The glass shattered on the street, breaking into pieces that hit her skin and sent crimson rippling across it. The little roses grew until they covered her, until she felt sick from looking at it all . She tried to stand, but the weight of her exhaustion held her down. She couldn't move. She was paralysed. _

_Her fingers clutched at threads, trying to hold herself -more than her blouse- together. That took effort, more than she could muster. Royce towered above her, and made her feel small for the first time. His thick fists which had snapped the buttons could easily snap her neck as well. _

_She wouldn't beg for mercy. That was beyond Rosalie Hale. Instead she lay there, and waited. She tried to convince herself that anything was better than begging, but knew that nothing could be worse than this..._

"PLEASE!" I shouted at her, and felt the weight of her rage crash down on me again. This time with her eyes. "I DON'T WANT TO SEE..." I trailed off, realizing that she'd seen that,d experienced that, for real. "I'm sorry."

She didn't even ask me how I knew. Being Rosalie, I'm sure she'd figured out what I'd been talking about the moment I said it. She was very perceptive, I'd give her that.

Instead, she glared at me like I'd just called her some of the names she'd directed at Royce earlier. I was sure she wanted to be dead at this moment, or wanted to strangle her former fiancée with her newfound strength.

She moved on to more important matters quickly enough. She wondered what it was that made her feel so refreshed. It took a while before we could think of the right words to say. Somehow, saying that it was her _human_ blood being used by her body for fuel didn't seem to help.

Shock struck her, and then a malicious smile slid over her face. "It seems to me that I've been damned. With a great gift, albeit."

Carlisle looked at her sternly. "Rosalie, I think you need some time to consider-"

"Consider what to do with it? I already have some ideas." With her words some rather graphic images flashed through my traumatized mind. "I need revenge. That's the only way I can rest. I will not be able to get rid of this feeling until I get rid of _him!_"

Melodrama aside, we knew she was serious. And not one of us wanted to be in the way to stop her.

– – – –

"You shouldn't have let her leave!" I shouted at Carlisle. This was going to attract too much notice. Royce was a pivotal piece in society, and_ someone _was going to notice him gone, if everyone else didn't, too.

"It's her choice, Edward. Whether you like it or not, you have to let her go. It's her duty and place now to end this with him, one way or the other." he sighed deeply. "It may not be pretty, but that's life. Or death, rather."

It was a cruel joke that Rosalie was playing. Trying to kill all those men would be impossible. Especially to do it without killing the rest of...I don't know...the entire _city _in the process. One whiff of the blood, and she would lose it. Everything we'd worked for. Gone.

"Where will our next home be?" I asked. "If she ruins this one, where will we go?"

Carlisle looked down a little. I'd gone further than his fleshed out plans. "Alaska, if she decides to stay with us. She'll need a refuge, and the north can give her one. If she leaves, well, we'll decide from there."

So maybe he had planned that far ahead. But everything was depending on Rosalie, and that couldn't be a good thing.

"I'm going after her," I said, and Carlisle didn't stop me. That much was a surprise, until I heard what he was thinking.

_He feels the need to defend her, _he thought, which tweaked at the frown on my face. He thought I wanted to help her, or something, keep her from getting hurt. Really, I just didn't want to leave Rochester. However ironic that might seem, when I hated it for months.

I stopped at the door. "Carlisle...," I said slowly. He looked at me strangely, knowing I had heard his thoughts. I didn't continue my train of thought. "I think I'll just wait for her to come back."

He lowered his gaze. "Edward, you're going to have to get used to her sometime. If she decides to stay, she'll be a member of our family." I cringed at the last word. His mention of her in our family sent a shock through my spine. Rosalie _Hale, _a Cullen. I couldn't even think about it.

The blank look I gave him definitely startled him a bit. "It won't be that bad! Actually, I think she's rather taken with you." The connotations of his words bothered me more than the words themselves.

"I think she rather wants to _kill _me after she's done with Royce," I said dryly. And he didn't argue with that one.

– – – –

We waited in the living room for her to come back. The record player was going, playing some jazz I couldn't concentrate on. What if something had happened to her? Or if she had killed Royce, then everything would be finished!

My thoughts were rambling, discordant. They didn't make coherent sense, and I really didn't care. All I cared about was figuring out what had happened so I could fix the problem. Because we were definitely not getting out of this one unscathed.

As if in answer to our thoughts, the door slammed against the wall loudly. She needed to either learn to control her temper, or learn how to open doors more quietly. Her hair blew wildly behind her, and she was wearing a _wedding dress_. I didn't want to know, but because of my idiotic ability, I already did.

It was just drama, being theatrical, that had led her to put on this act. Costumed, like a movie star, it was hardly believable. I almost looked around for the director, and the other actors.

Carlisle stood up, cautiously guiding her to the sofa. She sat down, chiffon and white lace spilling out around her so that she took up three seats. I wondered how she did it. How was her dress only streaked with mud, and not with blood?

She hadn't drunk a drop. Not one drop of crimson had touched her lips. She had the brains to know that, at least. But how _did _she know what we were, anyway?

"What happened, Rosalie?" Carlisle asked, though I could tell clearly by his thoughts that he knew _exactly _what had happened. It was an easy conclusionto come to.

"I think you both know what I did," she said sharply. Same old Rosalie. "Or is that beyond you? I killed Royce and all of his little friends." She quickly added, "And I didn't spill a drop." to compliment my staring at her dress.

Carlisle's eyes just about fell out of his head. Esme just sat there, shocked disbelief, trying not to involve herself in this one. When Rosalie was less of a newborn, more tame, she'd open her arms for another 'child'.

Perfect Rosalie, a killer. Not even a blood-thirsty killer, since she had pretty good self-control as proven so far. Maybe it was just because she was stubborn. Tenacity.

"What are you going to do now?" I asked her, not really wanting to hear the answer. Rosalie Hale, her negative characteristics enhanced by the transformation. If she stayed, it would be a very long eternity. If I even lasted that long.

"Well I have to stick it out," she said, winking at me. I groaned. "Where to now?"

Her feet took a new place on the coffee-table, high heeled shoes clicking on the wood. Carlisle smiled, and so did Esme. My face remained as stony as ever.

What was I supposed to say? That she had prevented us from living in Rochester again for a very long time? That it was her mistakes that were going to ruin my life? I couldn't say it, no matter what heartless and cruel things she'd said to me in the past. I wouldn't stoop to her level.

"Alaska," Carlisle whispered. "Any other suggestions?"

She grimaced, which led me to believe that she had none. Alaska didn't the lifestyle she would approve of, not with the Denali coven, anyway.

"You don't have to come," I tried to reassure her. It was my last chance to convince her to leave.

"And get arrested here? No thank you." She smiled. "Besides, I think I like this arrangement."

I really hoped she wasn't getting too comfortable. Because I had grown comfortable in Rochester after arriving like the prodigal son. Spoiled Rosalie, here to take the little joy out of my life that still existed. Well, maybe she wasn't _that _bad. Entertaining, anyway.

Prodigal son or not, I was still Edward. A Masen, a Platt, or a Cullen, I could always count on that.

_AN: I hope you're not disappointed, but this is the last chapter of Prodigal Son. I really don't know what I would write for another chapter. I will be writing a sequel, though, so once I think of a title and some plot points, I'll start writing. _

_I hope you enjoyed reading this story, and if you have anything to say about it, I'd appreciate you doing so. It's been a long one, and a huge accomplishment for me. I'm so happy, but it's a relief for it to be over now. _

_Please vote in the poll concerning the sequel on my profile page. Thanks to everyone who already did. _

_This is a really long AN, but whatever ;) If you want to read something Alice and Jasper related, check out my new story Talking to Strangers. It's my second favourite fic to this one, and it's doing really well. _

_Thanks again, Allie/Iyeshana_


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